


Broken Bonds

by Dragon_MoonX



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Novelization of FFVI, Pre-Canon, Wordcount: Over 150.000
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-19 04:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 60
Words: 219,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5953555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_MoonX/pseuds/Dragon_MoonX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All she ever wanted was a friend, someone who cared about her and knew what it was like to be different. Kefka Palazzo was all that and more, until their bonds were broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memories & Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Before we begin, I would like to thank Valkyrie Celes and DuckofIndeed for giving me the inspiration needed to create this story. 
> 
> This story began as a oneshot inspired by a review where Valkyrie Celes said that she'd like to see more of Terra and Kefka bonding over things they have in common. So I started writing Terra and Kefka oneshots and adding them to my Divinity of Darkness collection. Then somewhere along the line I realized that I could build an entire story around this oneshot I was writing.
> 
> The story that followed was inspired by Things Forgotten, which was written by DuckofIndeed and is, in my opinion, the best Kefka and Terra story ever written. I highly recommend it, as well as Duck's other stories. They are definitely worth reading.
> 
> So thank you, Valkyrie and Duck. Without you this story wouldn't exist.

She could still remember the first time they met, his blond hair plastered to the sides of his face as he took her by the hand, running with her through the rain as they tried to escape the deluge that poured from the darkened skies above.

Dr. Cid had just been given the go ahead to begin his research, and with it came a move to a new area of the palace, along with some new equipment that would aid in his research. He needed someone to watch over her during the move, and so this young man was given the job of looking after her.

Kefka had known Cid since he was a teenager, and had watched Terra from afar ever since they brought her from the Esper World three years ago. He'd watched her grow from a toddling infant into a beautiful little girl, and when Cid came to him asking that he watch her during the move, Kefka was happy to lend a hand and look after her for a while.

Thunder exploded overhead, shaking the ground and stopping them dead in their tracks. Terra screamed, unable to move another step as she was overcome with fright. Kefka scooped her up in his arms, his head down and his blond hair trailing out behind him as he ran with her the rest of the way. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard her cry, and saw that she had dropped her plush moogle when he picked her up. He told her he would come back for it later. Right now they had to get inside before they both got soaked and ended up getting sick from the cold and rain.

Kefka made it down the stairs and into the lower halls of the palace in record time, the little girl crying as she buried her face in his chest. He cursed his luck as he rubbed and patted her back, trying his best to comfort the crying five year old. He hadn't expected the storm to arrive so soon. None of them did. Which meant that most of Cid's new equipment was going to get wet.

"It's alright, dear," he soothed, walking over to the window and looking out into the pouring rain. There was Cid, along with several of his assistants from the lab and a handful of Imperial soldiers, moving the equipment across the grounds and up a flight of stairs as quickly as they could. Some of the machines and other equipment was quite large. Kefka had never seen anything like it before as they carried the boxes into the palace. Other things, such as the heavier machines, tables, and an assortment of things Kefka had no name for, was too big to be put in boxes. Luckily a few of the soldiers had brought some tarps in case it rained, and were hastily covering the equipment before it could get damaged by the water.

Kefka sighed and sat down in a chair by the window. The little girl was still crying, her loud wails reduced to hiccuping sobs as he continued talking to her and rubbing her back.

"Shh, hush now," he said. "You're going to give me a headache."

Terra sniffled and whimpered as she gazed over his shoulder out the window. The noise from the storm was scaring her, and she didn't have her plush moogle to comfort her and make her feel better. What she did have was this young man, whose hair was dripping rain water into his face. He'd done his best to shield her from the rain, and had gotten soaked in the process.

He sat her down in his lap, and asked if she would feel better if she had her plush moogle. Terra nodded, and he reached into his pocket, taking out a hairtie and tying his hair back in a ponytail.

"I'll get it for you," he said. "It's going to be wet after being left out in the rain. But it'll only take a few minutes to dry."

Kefka wiped the tears from her cheeks, then deposited her on the chair. "Stay here. I'll be right back." He smiled at her, giving her a gentle pat on the head, then opened the door and went back out into the rain.

She would never forget looking out the window as Kefka went to retrieve her toy. He was a different person then, only twenty-two years old and so full of life, his bright blue eyes shining when he smiled at her. But all that was about to change once the experiments began.

\------------------

He continued to care for her, helping her settle into her new living quarters after the move was complete. Cid was too busy looking things over in his lab, making sure everything was in its place and that everything was working properly. Kefka put her to bed, tucking her in and giving her her stuffed moogle. She thanked him, clutching the moogle to her chest as her tired eyes began to close.

"You're a good little girl," said Kefka, ruffling her soft curls. He brushed her hair out of her face, watching as she began to drift off to sleep.

"What are those machines for?" Terra asked sleepily.

Kefka looked towards the door, and saw the light from Cid's lab shining in the hallway. He honestly didn't know what most of the equipment was, but he knew how it was going to be used on her. He couldn't imagine subjecting anyone to that, let alone a little girl who wouldn't understand why this was happening to her.

"Don't worry about them," he said. "Those are for Dr. Cid's research. He's doing work on something very important."

"Like what?"

"Grown up things. Things that tired little girls shouldn't be thinking about."

He rose from the foot of the bed and was halfway across the room when he heard her call his name. Kefka turned around, and saw her wide eyes staring at him in the dark.

"Don't go," she whimpered. "I don't want you to leave."

"It's alright, Terra. I'll be in Dr. Cid's lab if you need me. You're safe here. Nothing is going to happen to you."

Why did he feel like he was lying to her when he said that? They could keep her safe from the sort of things little girls feared, like imaginary monsters and things that went bump in the night. But they couldn't protect her forever, not from the things that awaited her in the lab.

He felt terrible, lying to a little girl when he knew what would happen to her. But there was nothing he could do. The Emperor had made his decision. They'd start by telling her that she was special, that they only did this to protect her, and to help keep her and the people around her safe. But who was going to protect her from them?

He would, if he could. He would protect her, like he had done when he carried her inside from the rain. He would take her away from the life that no child should have to suffer through. But Kefka knew it was impossible. The Empire was going to have its way with her, and nothing he said or did would change that. There was nothing left to do but help her through this, one step at a time.

\----------------

Kefka retreated to the lab after Terra fell asleep, his tired eyes falling on the various machines and equipment as he entered the room. There were things with flashing lights, wires and tubes, buttons and dials. The bright overhead lights glinted off the gleaming metal instruments set out on a tray, and he cringed as he backed away, accidentally bumping into Cid who was standing behind him, going over a stack of papers on his clipboard.

The doctor started, and spun around to see Kefka standing there. "Kefka, good to see you. How is Terra?"

Kefka hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. "She's asleep."

"Good." Cid went back to scribbling on his clipboard. "I'll have everything ready in a couple of days. Until then she should be kept in isolation. That last incident was enough to convince the Emperor that she's no ordinary girl, Kefka. And I don't think he wants a repeat of what happened."

Kefka wandered over to a section of the lab that had been separated from the rest of the room by a curtain. He pulled back the curtain, revealing a table with leather straps. As horrified as he was by all of this, he couldn't help but feel drawn towards the things in Cid's lab. A curious fascination was slowly growing in the back of his mind, his fingers tracing the buckle on the restraints as he remembered what he'd seen her do.

This little girl had magic, something that hadn't been seen in a thousand years. They realized that she could use magic when her last tantrum resulted in a fire in the nursery room. The carpet was burned and the curtains set on fire when she refused to go to bed at her usual bedtime. There had been other incidents, but they were too small to draw much attention, such as the time Cid had gone to pick her up and received a shock not unlike that of static electricity.

She wasn't aware that she was doing anything. She didn't even know what magic was. How could she control something that she didn't understand? They needed to study her, to learn more about what she was and how she was using magic. More importantly they needed to figure out how to keep her abilities under control. Terra was getting older. She was getting stronger too. And they knew it was only a matter of time before she hurt someone, or herself, with her magic.

Kefka turned, watching as the doctor flipped through the pages on his clipboard. "What happens if these tests are successful and you gain access to her magic?"

Cid looked up from his papers. "We don't know yet, Kefka. The Emperor suggested something along the lines of testing on humans to see if they can be infused with magic."

Kefka was silent, his gaze drifting towards one of the larger machines in the corner. "I want to help," he said slowly. "I can look after her, and help keep her calm during the tests. You're going to have your hands full, trying to care for her while conducting research and keeping everything in order. I can help take care of her while you're busy."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Cid. "It's a big responsibility, looking after a child."

"I'm sure." Kefka nodded, his eyes never leaving the blinking, multicolored lights that lined the side of the machine. "What Terra needs is someone she can trust. Not another lab technician telling her to be quiet so you can concentrate on your work."

Kefka wanted to help the little girl, but he was also interested in Cid's research. Staying in the lab and working with Cid was the perfect way for him to remain by Terra's side. It also meant that he could observe the procedures in the lab, and that he would be the first to know whether or not they were a success.

These were the moments that Terra and Kefka would never forget, not even when his memories faded and turned to dust after years of countless experiments. He would remember the flashing lights when he was sitting alone in his padded cell, their colors just as vivid as they had been many years ago when all of this began. He would paint himself with a variety of colors, from the color of his skin to the fabric of his clothes, until he became someone that Terra no longer recognized. And she would remember too, in brief flashes and in dreams that haunted her at night, her memories flashing before her eyes as he slipped the bejeweled crown on her head. She would remember who he was, if only in her dreams. The person he was would live on in her heart, in laughter and in tears, in silent echoes that lingered in the back of her mind, like ripples on water spreading out across the vast expanse of time.

There were some things they would never forget, not even when their bonds were broken, and all they had lie shattered on the floor, surrounded by a sea of flames.

\-----------------

That night as she slept, Terra dreamt of another world, a world far away from her home in Vector. She'd been having the same dream for as far back as she could remember. It felt as though the world she remembered was her real home, a place she'd long forgotten but could still see clearly in her dreams. Sometimes the images varied, from rolling hills and a small house in the mountains to scenes of traveling long distances over a vast, unknown landscape. But it always ended the same, with her being taken away from this place.

There was a house atop a mountain in the hills. She didn't know the people here, but they felt strangely familiar to her. A man, whose sea green hair was tied back in a ponytail, greeted a young woman as she walked into the kitchen. Terra saw his face as he leaned down to examine the small, cloth bound bundle in the woman's arms. She didn't remember what he said to her, but she could recall the feeling of love and warmth that radiated out from his smiling face.

It was something she sensed in him, a gentle warmth present in his heart the likes of which she had never felt before. No one in Vector had a smile like that, or eyes that shone like the sun when he looked at her. There was something about him, something she couldn't quite explain. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that she felt at peace here. She felt loved, protected and safe, which was something she rarely felt in Vector.

Her dream ended almost as soon as it began, with a woman lying on the ground, injured and bleeding. Streaks of blood covered her face and hands, pouring from a gash in her forehead and trickling down her neck into her hair. Her hand trembled as she reached towards something, and a man, with graying hair and dark eyes, laughed. He was clutching something against his chest, holding it like it was the most precious treasure on earth.

A cold wind was blowing, the skies were dark, and the sound of his wicked laughter filled the air. She didn't know what this place was. All she knew was that she couldn't go back, and it filled her heart with sorrow, knowing that she would never return to this world.

These dreams often caused her to wake up crying in the middle of the night, as was the case when Kefka entered her room at two in the morning. When he asked her what was wrong, all she could say was that she wanted to go home. She kept repeating this over and over, beating her tiny fists against his chest, kicking and screaming as he tried picking her up.

"No!" she wailed, as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her and rocking her until she started to calm down. He had no idea the child could be so difficult, and made a mental note to ask Cid if she was always like this.

Nights like this would come again, when she awoke from her dreams of a lost world, when Cid forced her to lie still and be quiet as he inserted needles under her skin. When she felt frightened and alone, when she hurt from the tests performed on her during the day, Kefka was the one who was there for her. In time she would come to trust him, confiding in him when she was hurt or sad, and Kefka would hold her, the warmth of his body and the sound of his voice reminding her of the home she lost long ago.

\---------------

The sun was rising over the distant hills, bathing the streets of Vector in warm shades of amber light. Thin clouds skirted across the horizon, catching the colors of the sun and turning from gold to dusky rose. The cold December skies were lit with the growing light of a new day, the storm had departed, and warmth and sunlight was returning to the world.

Dr. Cid hadn't slept much the night before. He went to bed a little after three in the morning when he had finished going over everything in his lab, organizing his paperwork and making sure everything was in order. There was too much going through his mind, too many things that needed to be done now that he'd been given permission to begin testing on the girl. This could lead to one of the greatest scientific breakthroughs in his time, furthering the empire with the development of specialized weapons powered by magic, and knights trained to wield the elements in battle. He didn't know if such things were possible, but the thought alone was enough to keep him up at night, scribbling ideas in his notebooks and reworking his mathematical figures and calculations.

If such power could be harnessed and put to use, it would mean great things for the empire. They would become the most powerful nation in existence, conquering foreign countries in the name of the empire, assuring Gestahl's reign was spread far and wide across the land. It would mean the rebirth of a power not seen in a thousand years, a sleeping energy that had for centuries lay dormant in the darkest corners of the earth, hidden away since the War of the Magi ended. History would be made, right there in Vector, and the world would never be the same again.

Cid continued on his way, until he reached the end of the hall and entered Terra's bedroom. He peered into the darkened room and saw Kefka sitting on the floor beside her bed, sound asleep with his head down and his chin resting against his chest.

At first he doubted the young man's capability to look after her, thinking that it would be too much work and responsibility for someone as young and inexperienced as Kefka Palazzo. He didn't have a great deal of experience raising children, and he didn't know if Kefka was suitable to watch over an unruly five year old. But seeing Kefka like this, asleep on the floor with Terra resting peacefully beside him, made him reconsider letting Kefka take care of her.

He walked over to where Kefka was sleeping with his back against the wall, his trailing cloak draped across his lap like a blanket to keep him warm during the cold winter night. He placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake to rouse him from his slumber.

Kefka snorted and opened his eyes, blinking as his vision adjusted to the dim light of the room. He looked around and noticed a silver of sunlight spilling onto the floor from between the gap in the curtains. Was it morning already? The child had kept him up half the night, crying and begging him to take her home. He didn't remember falling asleep beside the bed. He remembered sliding off the bed into a sitting position on the floor, thinking that his presence might help the little girl relax if stayed and kept her company for a while. But he didn't recall actually drifting off to sleep here, with her head mere inches from his own, as she slept facing the wrong way in bed so she could be closer to him.

More than anything else, Kefka remembered the way she kept asking to go home. She promised she'd be a good girl, apologizing for things she hadn't done, saying that she was sorry and that if he took her home, she wouldn't be a bad girl again. When Kefka insisted that she hadn't actually done anything, Terra looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks and said, "Then why am I here? Why did they take me from my home? Why can't I go back? Why?"

It pained him to see her like this, screaming and sobbing until her eyes were red. He knew what she was and how she came to be a part of his world. Cid knew what she was as well. But the Emperor had forbidden them from telling her the truth. Even if they told her, she was too young to understand. Kefka told her it was just a dream, explaining the difference between dreams and reality. But she shook her head, insisting that what she saw was real.

Kefka's thoughts were interrupted when Cid spoke, telling him good morning and asking if he slept well. Kefka nodded, yawning and rubbing sleep from his eyes. He hadn't actually slept much, thanks to Terra. But what little sleep he got was enough to sustain him until after lunch when he eventually collapsed in bed and fell asleep.

"She didn't give you too much trouble, did she?" asked Cid.

Kefka sighed, looking back at the little girl in the bed beside him. "She kept me up half the night, crying her eyes out and saying that she wanted to go home. I tried holding her, talking to her and telling her it was just a dream, but she kept crying. All I could do was hold her until she cried herself to sleep." He gestured with a wave of his hand towards the sleeping girl. "The Emperor doesn't see this. He doesn't see how miserable she is. And he probably doesn't care. If he did, he wouldn't have taken her from the Esper World in the first place."

Cid knelt down on the floor beside him, and the young man turned to meet his gaze. "You did good last night, Kefka," he said, patting him on the shoulder. "I've given some thought to you helping me with Terra. And after what I've seen this morning, I've decided to let you look after her."

Kefka smiled, thanking him for the opportunity to take care of her. He knew there wasn't much he or anyone else could do for her. And while it was true that Kefka didn't have a great deal of experience taking care of children, he would simply do what anyone else would when placed in that position - his very best.

If it helped ease her suffering, if it helped her sleep better at night and comforted her knowing that someone was there for her, then he would do the best he could. He couldn't free her from this life of experimental testing and imprisonment within these walls. He couldn't give her the life she should have had, the life that she deserved. But the one thing that he could give her was a friend.


	2. Beneath the Triad Star

Kefka retired to his room after dinner, collapsing onto the soft mattress with a weary sigh. He lay still for several minutes, his bleary eyes staring at the ceiling. He wondered what Terra saw in her dreams, and if she remembered the night her father was captured. Or perhaps she was lucky enough to recall something pleasant, some moment from her past when her family was still together. Though he doubted if that would provide much comfort during those lonely nights she spent in the nursery, hugging that ragged toy close to her chest and whimpering in the dark. If anything it would only make her miss them more, and confuse her as to why couldn't go back to life she had before the empire invaded her home world.

He yawned and scooted over to the edge of the bed, then sat up and began getting undressed. His usual attire consisted of bright red clothing, with black boots and a flowing cloak. Thin, black vertical stripes ran from the waistband of his pants to his knees, stopping where they met with bands of black horizontal stripes that wrapped around his knees like a zebra. His red cloak was trimmed in green, the long sleeved shirt he wore had a purple collar with yellow stripes. His ears were pierced, the dangling earrings he wore matched the color of his clothes, and a bracelet with round obsidian beads adorned his left wrist.

He slipped out of his red shirt and pants, letting them fall to the floor beside the bed. Next came his boots that joined the pile of clothes on the floor. It felt good to take his boots off, to wiggle his toes and let his feet breathe. He stood up and walked over to his wardrobe, tugging his hair out of its ponytail as he went. Within minutes he'd donned a pair of pajamas and went straight to bed.

Kefka was exhausted, and Terra was just as tired as he was. He tried reading to her earlier that evening, only to have the little girl fall asleep in his lap. He knew she'd had a rough night and was eager to put her to bed, hoping that she might sleep better this time and allow the both of them to get some much needed rest. He carried her to bed, and tucked her in with her plush moogle at her side. That worn, ragged looking thing. Kefka wondered where it came from, and who had given it to her when she came here. Certainly not Emperor Gestahl, who cared little for the girl's health and well being.

He remembered holding the moogle by its torn right wing, frowning as he inspected the tattered, old toy. He'd seen the meager collection of clothes and toys she owned. Having spent most of his time in her room that morning, he noticed that she barely had a single scrap of clothing to her name. And the ragged moogle was the only toy she owned. Why was she living like this? Surely Cid could afford some decent clothes for the girl. Or maybe he was too busy to go into town and buy her something. It was then that Kefka decided that he needed to build up Terra's wardrobe, and find her something else to play with other this shabby looking moogle.

\---------------

Terra was already awake the next morning when Kefka entered her room. She was sitting up in bed, playing with her plush moogle, talking to it and fluffing what was left of its fur. Kefka sat down on the foot of the bed, and asked her if she would like something else to play with.

"Like what?" she asked, appearing somewhat confused at the mention of having something else to play with. She knew very little about the kind of toys children played with, having never owned or seen anything other than her stuffed moogle. This was due to the fact that the Emperor had kept her in isolation for the last three years, never letting her set foot outside the palace from the time they brought her here. He didn't want anyone to find out that they were harboring a half-Esper girl they'd stolen from her parents. It would be too much work for Gestahl to conjure up some half-baked lie about where she came from, and no amount of stories and excuses could cover things up if she accidentally preformed some feat of magic while she was outside the palace walls.

"There's many things to choose from," said Kefka. "Like dolls and coloring books."

"Dolls?" She had no idea what he was talking about.

Kefka smiled and patted her knee. "Don't worry. It'll be easier to understand once you see what they are."

He left the palace after breakfast, visiting the stores in Vector and buying a little of everything he thought Terra might like. He bought her some dresses, as well as some coloring books and a new doll. The litttle girl couldn't believe her eyes as she watched Kefka unloading all the wonderful things he'd bought her. The dresses were bright red, trimmed in white lace, and came with a few pairs of white tights that had pictures of red roses on them. Then came the coloring books, their pages adorned with images of kittens and puppies frolicking in the grass. She was fascinated by the pictures on the pages, and the little sticks of colored wax he called crayons that she could use to color the pages of her new books.

The only thing she wasn't interested in was the doll he bought for her. When he asked her why she didn't like her new toy, Terra held up her moogle and said that she liked him better. Of course. The child had already bonded with the toy and had no desire to throw it away in favor of a new one.

Kefka looked at he ragged moogle, wondering if there was some way he could repair the tired, old thing. It's left ear was torn, as was its right wing, with a large rip in the back where the stuffing was falling out. It would take more than a few stitches to sew it back together, and it needed a new nose as well, seeing as how the old one had fallen off long before the toy had been given to her.

"Do you mind if I hold onto this for a while?" Kefka asked, taking the moogle and carefully examining the rip in its back.

"Why?" asked Terra. "What are you going to do with him?"

"I'm going to fix it. It's in horrible shape, and is in desperate need of some repair work."

"You aren't going to hurt him, are you?"

Kefka shook his head. "No, sweetheart. I'm not going to hurt him. You could say that he is very sick, probably because someone already hurt him and he didn't heal properly. I'm going to make him feel better. Because you don't want your favorite toy looking like this, now do you?"

Terra thought about it for a moment, looking at the worn toy in his hands. "You can make him better?"

"Yes, I can," Kefka replied.

Terra reluctantly agreed to let Kefka keep her favorite toy. That toy meant the world to her, because it was the first material possession she ever owned. It was given to her by a young boy named Leo Christophe, who was a few years younger than Kefka. She vaguely remembered seeing him when they brought her in the palace. He was the son of one of the soldiers who had taken part in the raid on the Esper World. And when he saw how upset she was, this poor, helpless toddler who had been forcefully taken from the only home she'd ever known, he couldn't help feeling sorry for her, and gave her the toy in hopes it would make her feel better.

After taking the plush moogle and setting it aside on the desk, Kefka sat down with her and started coloring. Terra watched as he flipped through the pages of a coloring book that had detailed drawings of birds, buildings, animals, flowers and fish. The intricate drawings had pictures within pictures, with spirals, tangles, stripes and spots that covered every inch of the animals in the pictures. She was so fascinated by these highly detailed, beautiful works of art that she ignored the coloring books he bought her in favor of watching him color.

Several minutes passed before he looked up and noticed that she was watching him. When he asked her why she wasn't coloring, Terra said it was because the pictures in his book were pretty. He smiled and told her that he liked things with bright colors and intricate patterns woven together to form a picture. "The world is like that," he said. "There are many colors and layers to everything. If you look at a tree or lake, you'll notice the many colors and shapes that give life to the world. Most people don't take the time to notice these things. But the world is a very beautiful, very complex thing. You just have to stop and look around once in a while."

Terra spent the next half hour watching him color. She asked questions about the pictures, asking him if he'd ever seen places and animals like the ones in the book. She wanted to know what it was like, traveling and seeing all the things the world had to offer. She eventually picked up the box of crayons and started coloring one of the pages in the book he gave her, the two of them talking and laughing while Kefka entertained her with his stories of the world.

She discovered that Kefka had many stories to tell, and enjoyed listening to him while they worked on their coloring books. It became part of their daily routine to sit and color for hours at a time, often spending entire afternoons together. During the time spent together, Kefka would bring her treats from the palace kitchens, and they would color while sipping juice and eating chocolate chip cookies.

One day Kefka walked into her room with a surprise. He knelt down in front of her, holding up the plush moogle that he had repaired. She ran to him, squealing in delight as he handed her the toy. She thanked him over and over, hugging the toy and smiling at him. It didn't matter that he couldn't find the same color thread to stitch up its wing, or that the stitches in its back were a little sloppy. What mattered was that he had done his best to fix her favorite toy, and it made her happy, knowing that someone cared enough about her to take time out of their day to do something nice for her. No one else had offered to repair her toy. Kefka was the only one who had been kind enough to help.

\-------------

The Espers had been moved to a specialized holding facility where they were being studied and kept in isolation, shut off from the rest of the world as Cid performed numerous tests on them. He took samples of their blood and performed biopsies on their flesh and internal organs.

Kefka was fascinated by his work, and began spending more and more time in the lab, watching as he weighed organs and labeled vials of blood. He usually stayed off to the side, pouring over books and papers that were spread out on the desk, reading everything he could get his hands on. His fascination didn't go unnoticed by Dr. Cid, who often found Kefka spending an unusual amount of time in the holding facility with the Espers, staring at them in their prison cells.

Most of them had been sedated to keep them from rampaging throughout Vector, and were lying in a semiconscious stupor on the floor. Others were near death from the horrific tests that had been performed on them, and a few of them had already died, their bodies left to rot until someone came for them, which might not be for hours or even days, depending on how busy Cid's assistants were. Normally they were seen to right away, because it was important that their organs were harvested while they were still fresh. But every now and then an Esper was forgotten, its festering remains left to rot next to members of its own family.

The level of cruelty towards these living beings was staggering. They were treated like animals, and not like the thinking, feeling, intelligent beings that they were. Parents were forced to watch their children die, their siblings herded like animals into the testing area. Espers that entered the testing area usually didn't make it back alive, and those that did returned with their sanity damaged beyond repair. Their bodies were broken, their minds corrupted, and they stumbled and staggered about, unable to move or think, falling to the floor in convulsive spasms, twitching and screaming as their friends and families looked on in horror.

Kefka had been there long enough that he'd seen everything that went on. In the days and weeks since the testing began, he witnessed nearly half a dozen Espers die. He watched as Cid's assistants struggled to close the cell doors when one of the Espers tried to rescue his dying friend. One time he got too close as a muscular arm reached out, its clawed hand swiping at his face, narrowly missing him as Kefka screamed and jumped back. The assistant closest to the door wasn't so fortunate, and had his face torn open by the Esper's crimson claws, the dangling strips of flesh coming away as the Esper roared, flames spewing from its gaping maw as the assistant was burned alive.

The next thing he knew, Kefka was being hauled out of the room as several Imperial soldiers rushed in to help deal with the situation. The last he saw of the vicious beast was a pair of wings, wings that were as beautiful and terrible as the night, covered in shining feathers and leathery skin. He watched as the Esper beat its wings, rising up to its full height and towering over the soldiers. He was in awe of this ferocious beast, and couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to possess that kind of power.

One by one the days slowly passed, and then a breakthrough was made when Dr. Cid discovered a passage in an ancient book that had been written during the age of the Magi, when magic flourished and Espers lived and worked alongside human beings.

The Magi had some rather unique views on magic, and described the brain as a "collection of halls where various attributes of the gods could be stored." They called the pituitary gland the "Triad Star", and spoke of it as "having walls of silver that shone with its own light, its floor glistening with silt from the heavens."

This made him wonder if the key to unlocking their powers lie hidden in the brains of these magical creatures. The only way to find out was to begin dissecting their brains and look for any of the telltale signs mentioned in the book. He would have to take them apart, piece by piece, searching for the answers.

And so he began the gruesome task of slicing open their brains, using only the brains from Espers that had already died during the testing procedures. He refused to slaughter them if he didn't have to, knowing that once they were gone there wouldn't be anymore left to experiment on. And he was strongly opposed to the idea of needlessly killing something if all he needed was two or three Espers to prove his theory was correct. It wasn't long after that when he discovered that the pituitary gland in Espers shone with a slight phosphorescence, and that it contained a siltlike residue in the bottom of the glad.

Kefka's interest and fascination grew when Cid told him of this discovery, deepening his desire to lean more about these creatures and their power. He understood the importance of this discovery, and that it meant they were getting closer to unlocking the secrets of magic. This was the key they'd been looking for, the key to accessing the abilities these beings possessed and passing it on to humans. Cid had successfully located the origin of magic, but there was a problem, and Kefka's excitement was short lived when he realized what this meant.

In order to confirm that magic did in fact originate in the brain, Cid would have to begin testing on Terra, a process which had the potential to kill her if something went wrong. He couldn't dissect her brain like he'd done with the Espers, but he couldn't think of any other way to test for the siltlike residue and phosphoresce found in Espers. He needed to prove that this was something she and the Espers had in common, a similarity which gave her the ability to use magic. Without proof of the connection between her and the Espers, he couldn't officially confirm that magic did in fact originate in a specific area of the brain.

"There has to be another way," said Kefka. Blood tests, biopsies, brain scans, yes, he could allow that. But he refused to stand back and watch Terra being sliced open like a lump of beef. She was a person, regardless of the fact that she was half-Esper. She had thoughts and feelings just like any other five year old, and she deserved to be treated like the person that she was.

Cid could hear the desperation in his voice as the young man pleaded with him, trying to convince him to try something, anything, but that. "I suppose I could test for the presence of magical residue using more conventional methods," he said. "However there's no guarantee it will provide me with solid evidence of her connection to the Espers."

Kefka sighed in frustration. "Evidence? She burned down everything in the nursery! How does that not count as evidence?"

"People witnessed her using magic and setting the nursery on fire, but it isn't scientific proof. We have yet to prove that she shares the same internal makeup as Espers, that she has the same magical residue linking her to them. And for that I need medical tests to prove her connection to them."

Kefka sat down in a chair by the desk, his head in his hands as he leaned forward in his seat. "I think I'm getting a headache," he groaned. He massaged his aching temples, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself. "What kind of tests will you run on her?"

"I'll start with the basics," Cid replied. "Lab work, cerebrospinal fluid analysis - "

"And what is that?"

"Do you know what a spinal tap is?"

Kefka shook his head.

"Then I suggest you get to know more about these procedures, Kefka. Because you're the one that will have to prepare her for what's ahead."

What Kefka didn't realize was that everything Dr. Cid did to her would come back to haunt him, for there would come a day when he too was subjected to the same procedures years later. But even if he had known he probably wouldn't have cared, because this was more than a discovery that would change the course of history. This was the beginning of his quest for power.


	3. Rubies & Pearls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Among Life's precious jewels,  
> Genuine and rare,  
> The one that we call friendship  
> Has worth beyond compare.
> 
> ~Author Unknown

Kefka cringed when he looked at the medical textbook Dr. Cid had given to him. It was one of many books he'd let Kefka borrow in order to learn more about the procedures he'd be performing on Terra. He could hardly even look at some of the pictures in the book, and the detailed descriptions made his insides twist into an uncomfortable knot. How was he going to explain this to Terra? And more importantly, how was he going to get her to hold still long enough so Cid could run tests on her?

He imagined Terra being frightened and accidently using her magic, which could result in anything from one of the assistants getting electrocuted to her setting the room on fire. She wasn't even aware of her actions when she accidentally set the nursery on fire. But a child had to easier to deal with than a full grown Esper, right? Still, it was enough to make Kefka wonder if Cid could give her a mild sedative before the procedure. He didn't want her hurting herself or anyone else.

Kefka set the book aside and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as he thought about how he was going to explain this to her. He felt a hand tugging on his cloak, and looked down to see Terra standing beside his desk. She had started spending time with him in his living quarters, rather than the small room that was right down the hall from Cid's lab. Her bedroom was tiny, little more than a closet in Kefka's opinion. He considered letting her live with him, and made a mental note to ask Cid about it in the morning.

"What is it, dear?" Kefka asked, turning in his chair and looking down at the little girl.

"What are you doing?" she asked, curiosity shining in her bright green eyes.

"Reading," Kefka replied.

"What are you reading about?"

Kefka sighed. He pushed his chair out from under his desk, picked her up, and set her down in his lap. "You see these books, Terra? They're from Dr. Cid. He gave them to me so I could better understand the work he does. You know what his job is, don't you?"

Terra nodded, and a few of her mint green curls fell into her face. "He's a doctor. Doctors help take care of people when they're sick."

Although he had been given medical training prior to working in the lab, Dr. Cid wasn't the kind of doctor she was thinking of. If something was beyond his ability to treat, he would send his patients to a hospital where they could receive expert care and attention. But it worked for what Kefka needed to tell her, so he nodded in agreement, and told her that the doctor wanted to run some tests to make sure she was healthy.

"And because you're a special little girl who is capable of using magic, he also wants to test your magical abilities."

"But I don't know how to use magic," said Terra. "It just happens."

"That's alright, sweetheart. None of us know how magic works. But what we do know is that it is a gift, one that hasn't been seen for a very long time. You're the only one who has this gift, Terra. You're special. There's no one else like you in the world."

He smiled at her when he said that. But what she didn't realize was that he wasn't referring to her ability to use magic. She was special, but not because she could use magic. It was because he cared about her, and loved her the way an older brother would a younger sister. He didn't see her as a girl whose powers could be used as a weapon, or as a bizarre magical being whose abilities should be harnessed and studied. To him she was an ordinary girl that had hopes and dreams like any other child, for these were the days when Kefka understood the meaning of dreams, and of having hopes for the future.

He wanted to be there for her, to support her dreams, and make sure she knew that there was more to life than what she saw in the labratory. She had been given an extraordinary gift, but her dreams meant so much more. She was more to him than a girl who could conjure fire and electricity, and Kefka was going to make sure she knew it.

\--------------

In the days leading up to Terra's first "magical evaluation", as Cid had chosen to call it, Kefka was given permission to let Terra live with him. Terra was excited about moving in with him, and it wasn't long until she began exploring his home, looking through his belongings and asking questions about everything she saw.

She noticed that he had a lot of jewelry, which he kept in boxes on the dresser. Like most little girls, Terra was drawn towards the shiny necklaces and bracelets, and tried climbing the chair at his dresser to get a better look at them. When he saw her trying to get at his jewelry boxes, Kefka chuckled and lifted her up onto the chair, sitting her down and allowing her to get a better look at his collection. He opened one of the boxes, revealing strands of pearls, dangling earrings, and bracelets made from obsidian beads.

"It's so pretty!" she cooed, picking up a pair of earrings and holding them up to the light. The opal gemstones caught the rays of sunlight streaming in through the window, reflecting a prism of rainbow colors across her fingers. A smile lit her face, and she turned the earrings over in her hands, marveling at the brilliant display of colors. "Can I wear earrings too?" she asked. "I want to wear jewelry and get dressed up pretty like you do."

"I don't know." Kefka considered her for a moment before reaching for a box containing ruby earrings. He then brushed her hair aside, and held up one of the earrings to see how it would look. "I think these are more your style."

Terra gasped, her smile spreading even wider. "They're beautiful!"

"You can have them if you want. But you'll have to get your ears pierced in order to wear them."

"Does it hurt?"

"A little," he admitted. "You feel pressure more than actual pain. But it's over quickly, and afterwards you can wear any kind of earrings that you like." It was then that Kefka realized that he could take her to get her ears pierced, and use it as a way of showing her that most painful experiences weren't as bad as they seemed. It might help prepare her for the evaluation, and it would give him an idea of how well she could behave when placed in an uncomfortable situation. That way he'd know in advance whether or not she was likely to cause a fuss once they got her in the lab.

"Would you like to have your ears pierced?" Kefka asked. "I had mine done here in Vector when I was seventeen. If you want, I could take you to have it done. It doesn't take long, and it'll be over before you know it."

He knew the risks involved in taking her out of the palace. There was always the chance that she would get upset and accidentally set something on fire. And putting her in a situation where she would feel nervous and afraid increased the likelihood of her having an accident. But he needed this just as much as she did. She needed to see that certain things weren't as bad as they seemed, and Kefka needed practice keeping her calm.

He waited patiently as she thought about tje offer, and calmly reassured her that everything would be alright. He told her he would be there for her during the procedure, and she turned to him and said, "You promise?"

"Yes, Terra. I promise I won't leave you. And you can bring your stuffed moogle if it'll make you feel better."

She hesitated, thinking about it a moment longer before agreeing to get her ears pierced. And later that week, as Kefka walked into the lab with Terra following beside him, the little girl was sporting a pair of beautiful ruby earrings.

Cid looked down at her and smiled. He said she looked very pretty, and that it was obvious Kefka was taking good care of her. He then lead them over to a small room where he would perform the pre-evaluation checkup on her.

The little girl shied away from him when she saw the exam table, bright lights and other strange objects in the room. This place frightened her, and she clung to Kefka, holding onto his cloak as she hid behind him.

"It's alright, Terra," said Kefka. "It's just Cid. You remember him, don't you?" He looked back at the doctor and said, "Don't mind her. She's just a little nervous. And looking at all these bizarre devices you've got in here, I can't say I blame her."

"Do these things bother you, Kefka?" Cid asked, taking a moment to go over the notes on his clipboard before seeing to Terra.

Kefka glanced nervously at the metal objects on the tray beside the exam table. "Not really, no. Although I can't say I feel relaxed and at home here."

Cid began the examination like he would any other routine checkup, measuring Terra and recording her height, weight and blood pressure. He listened to her heart and lungs with a stethoscope, and once he was sure that everything was fine, he began preparing her for the blood test. This was the part that made Kefka nervous, because he didn't know how she would react to having her blood drawn. And although he wouldn't admit it, the thought of being around needles made him uncomfortable. It was odd, because he didn't mind having his ears pierced, and yet hypodermic needles for lab work always seemed to make him nervous. He could feel his pulse begin to quicken as Cid tied a band around her arm, the little girl sitting in Kefka's lap as he held her tight to keep her from moving around.

Terra clutched her plush moogle, and Kefka turned his head, unable to watch as her blood was being drawn. He then heard a soft chuckle, and looked back to see what Cid was laughing at.

"You should see yourselves," said Cid. "You both look like you're going to faint. Especially you, Kefka."

He continued the evaluation, and although Kefka had some trouble getting Terra to cooperate during the spinal tap, they eventually got her to settle down after Cid gave her a mild sedative to help her relax. She'd had enough of being poked, prodded and examined, and started crying when Kefka tried getting her to lay down on the exam table.

She lay on her side with her knees drawn up against her chest, sniffling and whimpering, clutching her plush moogle as tears spilled down her cheeks. It was too much for her to deal with in one day, and Kefka asked if it were possible to reschedule this for a later date. The doctor shook his head, telling him that it would be better if he had both samples taken at the same time, so that he could compare them to the samples he'd taken from the Espers.

Kefka sighed and looked back at the little girl. He knew it was going to get worse, with more invasive procedures following this one. And for what? For the sake of science? For the empire? For the advancement of society? A society that longed to discover the secrets of an ancient art that had passed from this world, only to be reawoken centuries later in the form of this half-human, half-Esper five year old. A society that didn't care how much pain they caused, so long as they had their answers.

"Can you at least give her something that'll help her relax?" asked Kefka. "I don't want her going off in here like fireworks on New Year's Eve."

Cid nodded sympathetically, and left to get some medicine that would help her relax.

When everything was finally over and they were allowed to return to Kefka's living quarters, the young man picked her up and carried her back to his room. She was sobbing quietly against his chest, her eyes red from crying on the way home. Kefka hated that they were doing this to her, but at least Cid had done what he could to make this easier for her.

Kefka put her to bed, giving her the chance to rest and recover from everything she'd been through. Dr. Cid said it would be best to put her to bed as soon as they got home, because she would still be tired and groggy from the sedative he gave her. He then sat down on the bed beside her, stroking her soft curls as he spoke to her, telling her how brave she was and that he was proud of her for doing so well today. He couldn't bring himself to tell her that this was only the beginning, and that things were only going to get worse from here on out.

\--------------------

Dr. Cid spent the next few days carefully analyzing the test results, searching for trace elements of magic in her blood and spinal fluid. What he found was small, microscopic particles that closely resembled the siltlike residue found in Espers.

His research showed that the residue originated in the pituitary gland, and was then distributed throughout the body via the bloodstream. This residue was what gave Espers the ability to use magic. It was the essence of magic itself, and could be detected in certain bodily fluids such as blood and spinal fluid. When the test results showed that Terra had the same siltlike residue present in the samples he had taken, Cid ordered further tests to see if it was also present in her internal organs.

By now Kefka had had enough of these tedious medical procedures. This had gone on for months, and more than a year had passed since Cid began researching Espers. The tests left Terra weak and miserable, due to the sedatives they gave her to keep her calm and prevent her from accidentally using her magic. She was in pain from being operated on, and the anesthetic left her groggy and disoriented for several hours after she woke up. It had reached the point where she was no longer allowed to have a normal childhood, laughing and playing the way little girls should, and Kefka had to resort to bringing her toys and coloring books to the lab so she had something to do while she was recovering.

Kefka told Cid that he'd had enough of these endless tests and evaluations, and that the first series of tests should have been enough to tell them what they needed to know. He thought it was unnecessary to keep putting her through this when they already had the results they were looking for. Dr. Cid agreed with him, but said that Emperor Gestahl wouldn't be satisfied until he had gone over everything, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that Terra had the same genetic makeup as Espers.

From start to finish the whole process took just over two years to complete. It took all that time, from researching and dissecting Espers to performing a barrage of medical tests on Terra, to finally prove that he had discovered the origin of magic, and that Terra possesed the same kind of magic that Espers had. It wasn't long until the news made headlines throughout Vector, then quickly spread from one town to the next, passing from the sea side community of Albrook to the faraway village of Narshe.

Magic had returned to the world, and one little girl was the key to reinventing the human race, to developing a new brand of magic infused weapons and knights. However questions still remained regarding the infusion of magic. Dr. Cid had many theories, such as using blood transfusions to transfer the essence of magic into the human body. The only problem was that he didn't know what effect this might have on someone, or if Esper and human blood were even compatible. He needed someone who was willing to participate in a series of experimental tests to see if humans could be given the gift of magic.

He spent weeks searching for someone who was willing to participate in the experiments. But no matter where he turned, no one seemed interested in becoming his personal guinea pig. They weren't willing to subject themselves to a barrage of untested medical procedures, especially when no one knew what the outcome would be. The experiments could be dangerous, and there were those who told him that what they were was doing was wrong, that they shouldn't meddle in things they didn't understand. Because even if they succeeded in giving someone the ability to use magic, what then? How did they know that magic could be controlled? Or that the person wouldn't be profoundly changed by the experience?

Dr. Cid had taken this into consideration, and admitted that he didn't know what would become of someone who was put through the experiments and survived. At best they would become like Terra, able to wield the elements of magic and conjure them at will. But if the experiment was a failure, death could result from the human body being unable to cope with the infusion process. And yet there was one who heard the warnings, who listened to the concerns of others, and was still interested in participating in the experiments.

Kefka understood the risks he'd be taking by signing up to become Cid's first test subject. Cid warned him time and time again about the dangers of the procedure. But none of that mattered when Kefka thought about the Esper he'd seen attacking the soldiers, the one with crimson claws and luminescent wings. It spoke his name in whispers, calling to him in his dreams, and he wouldn't be happy until he could feel its ancient power surging through his veins.


	4. Experimenting With Magic

After a great deal of planning and thought, Dr. Cid devised a process that he would use to infuse Kefka with magic. He would begin by collecting Esper blood and separating the black, grainy siltlike residue from it, then add the magical residue to human blood before giving it to Kefka in a weekly injection. If he could handle that, Cid would start giving him blood transfusions containing Esper magic. The final step consisted of separating magic from Esper blood, then starting the process over again, first with injections of pure magic followed by transfusions.

Cid worried that Kefka wouldn't make it to the last step in the procedure. He feared that giving someone straight Esper magic, in its pure and undiluted form, might completely overwhelm his system. He didn't know what would happen if Kefka reached that point and the process continued. There could be serious repercussions from giving someone so much magic in such high concentrations. But Kefka was still willing to give it a try, saying that they would figure out what to do when they reached that point.

"If you reach that point," said Cid. He dabbed Kefka's arm with a damp cottonball, cleaning the area in preparation for the first injection. "We don't even know what this will do to you. We have to get past this stage before we even consider moving forward."

He hesitated before giving Kefka the injection. He was starting to question his actions, and wondered if the people who said the empire shouldn't be meddling with magic were right. What was he doing to Kefka? What would he become? He had no way of knowing what this would do to him, or if he would survive the first injection.

Kefka braced himself, gritting his teeth and looking away as he felt the needle pierce his skin. He always hated needles, and couldn't bear to look as Cid gave him the injection.

Ten seconds. That was all it took. One single, solitary moment as the diluted magic entered his blood stream, and in that moment everything began to change. He was being consumed by the essence of a living being, by a force beyond their comprehension that was tearing at every nerve and muscle fiber in his body, burning through his blood and igniting a fire that mankind had not experienced for a thousand years.

"Kefka?" Cid's worried voice barely registered in his mind. "Kefka, can you hear me? Kefka? Kefka!"

He was suddenly plunged into darkness, his body screaming in protest as a fire the likes of which he'd never felt before flooded his veins.

"Cid..." Kefka moaned faintly. "I don't..." The rest of the sentence never passed his lips.

\--------------

There were voices, lingering beyond the border of his conscious mind. A bright light was shining overhead, piercing the darkness behind his eyelids. He tried to move, his body shaking uncontrollably as he tried lifting his head off the pillow, but the pain in his head stilled him, and he fell back against the pillow.

He was in an area of the lab that was separated from the rest of room by a curtain, lying in a hospital bed with a damp washcloth draped across his forehead. The burning sensation was gone now, replaced by a throbbing pain in the back of his head. Kefka wondered if he hit his head when he collapsed. But that wasn't right. He fell forward off the exam table. So why did the back of his head feel like it was going to split open? He tried to remember, but his thoughts were muddled, making it difficult for him to recall the moments before he lost consciousness.

Dr. Cid leaned over him, shining a light in his eyes. Kefka responded by turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut, the light stinging his eyes and causing the pain in his head to intensify.

"Kefka, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?"

Some feeble attempt at language dribbled from his lips, his lashes lifting to reveal cloudy blue eyes. He knew where he was, but he was having difficulty stringing his thoughts together to form a coherent sentence. And then something very peculiar happened. A simpering smile spread across his face, and he started giggling.

"I think I'm fine," said Kefka. His speech was slurred, making him sound as though he were drunk. And then just like that his vision cleared, and he looked around the room as though just realizing where he was.

This should have been enough to indicate that what they were doing was wrong, that they needed to stop before he suffered some form of irreversible brain damage. But Kefka recovered quickly, and aside from a slight headache he felt perfectly fine. Dr. Cid checked his vital signs, then performed a complete and thorough examination, taking note of everything Kefka felt upon being injected with magic. His findings were recorded, analyzed, and filed away to be studied at a later date. He then dismissed Kefka, telling him to report back at once if he started feeling anything unusual.

\-----------------

Terra was waiting for him when he returned. She greeted him at the door, smiling as he bent down and picked her up. She was worried about what would happen when he left to see Dr. Cid, and was relieved when he walked through the door, still looking just as fit and healthy as he did when he left that morning.

Kefka didn't tell her that there was a chance he could die, or that these experiments could harm him both mentally and physically. He didn't want her to worry about him. But if something happened to him - and there was a very real possibility that any number of things could go wrong - she needed to know what to expect. So instead of frightening her with the harsh reality of what he was going through, he told her that there was a chance he could get sick from these experiments, keeping his explanation simple while at the same time avoiding the more horrific details Cid had warned him about.

He carried Terra to the couch and sat down with the little girl on his lap. He was surprised when he saw her staring at him as though he had a spot of food on his chin. "What are you doing, Terra?" he asked.

"I wanna make sure you're alright," the little girl replied. "You said he was going to give you a shot, and those always hurt real bad."

"I'm fine, Terra," he said, stroking her soft, green curls. "It's not so bad once you get used to it. You got used to it too, remember? I used to bring you your coloring books while you were in the lab, and you would hold out your arm for Dr. Cid while you kept right on coloring."

"It still hurt, though." She held out her plush moogle, offering it to him as she said, "You should take this. It always made me feel better when I had to get shots and tests."

Kefka smiled, taking the plush moogle and setting it beside them on the couch. He'd slip it into bed with her once she was asleep. But for now he'd hold onto it, using it as a reminder of her kindness and affection towards him. It meant a lot to him that she would give him her favorite toy. And who knows? He might just need it if things got bad enough. He wouldn't let Terra in the lab to see what Cid was doing to him, but he could keep part of her with him if need be.

It was going to be a long and painful process. It wasn't something that could be completed overnight. And how quickly it progressed depended on how well his body could handle the infusions. Terra couldn't be there for him when he was in the lab. But knowing that a part of her could be there was a comfort to him. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't concerned about the possible side effects. And yet he would also be lying if he said he wasn't excited about the thought of having magic. He wanted to know what it was like to wield the power of the elements, to command fire and electricity like Terra did. And yet he quickly realized that this wasn't at all like he imagined it would be.

When he felt the first surge of magic pulsing through his veins, the rush was exhilarating, but it carried with it a strange and powerful sickness that made him feel like expelling his entrails on the floor. Everything that was inside of him wanted to come out, as though his insides were attempting to flee the magic that had invaded his system. He felt horribly nauseous. And when the energy surged forward into his brain, he was hit with such an intense burst of pain that he instantly passed out. He couldn't think of anything to compare it to, except perhaps the world's worst case of brain freeze.

It made him wonder if Cid had injected him with magic from Shiva. Shiva was an ice element Esper who was capable of conjuring hail and snowstorms. Perhaps having too much ice magic on the brain could cause blinding headaches similar to brain freeze. He discussed this with Cid when he went in for his next infusion, and after taking a moment to look over his notes, the doctor stated that he had in fact been given a dose of magic from Shiva.

"I don't like it," said Kefka. "When that stuff hits it knocks the wind out of me. It's like ice crystals forming in my lungs, and it makes my head hurt so much I can't see straight."

"You were also given magic from Ifrit," said Cid, lifting up several sheets on his clipboard as he flipped through his notes.

"And what does that one do?"

"That one is a fire element Esper, who relies heavily on the use of fire based attacks during battle. Tell me, how did it feel when you received his magic?"

"Like my blood was on fire."

Dr. Cid wondered if it would be better to give Kefka separate doses of magic, one from Shiva and one from Ifrit, then record his reaction to each of them. He asked Kefka if he would mind being given two injections, saying that it would be better than mixing the two, and that it might help identify the type of magic he was most compatible with. Kefka reluctantly agreed to being given two separate doses, and waited while Cid prepared the serum, separating the two forms of magic so that he could be given each one individually.

When everything was ready, Kefka was given a dose of magic from Ifrit. This produced different results, causing his temperature to spike within minutes of receiving the infusion. He could feel a hot, burning sensation in his chest that spread throughout the rest of his body. His hands were tingling, his blood felt like it had been turned to magma, and sweat was pouring from every inch of his body, streaking his face and soaking through his clothes. Then all at once he felt a sharp, stabbing pain racing up his spine towards his brain, only this time it was accompanied by a wave of fire, burning through his system like a field of dry wheat.

Kefka groaned and fell backwards on the exam table. His muscles were twitching and spasming, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he started laughing like a maniac. He was spewing nonsense the likes of which Cid had never heard before, laughing and jerking as he convulsed on the table. And then just like that it was over. Kefka passed out when the surge of magic reached his brain, the entire incident lasting no more than ten minutes.

The darkness gradually began to fade, and Kefka awoke to find the doctor dabbing at his face and neck with a damp washcloth. He was shivering and sweating, his head aching with a tremendous amount of pain. He was vaguely aware of the fact that someone was speaking to him, calling his name as they attempted to pull him back from the brink of unconsciousness. But somewhere in the back of his mind it felt like something had disconnected, and the nerves in his brain absolutely refused to let him speak.

This troubling incident was enough to make Dr. Cid question what they were doing. He wondered if it might be too late to prevent Kefka from suffering some kind of traumatic brain injury as a result of the experiment. But even if he were to stop the experiments all together, the Emperor would force him to find someone else to use as his experimental lab rat.

They waited an hour before trying again, this time using ice magic obtained from Shiva, and within seconds Kefka started laughing and shouting incoherent nonsense. Only this time he seized up on the exam table and stopped breathing, due to the overwhelming amount of ice crystals flooding his lungs and freezing his airway.

They were able to revive him and restart his breathing, but he remained in an inert stupor hours after the experiment had ended. The doctor didn't know if it was because he'd been given two doses of magic instead of one, or if it was because his body reacted badly to ice magic. They kept him there for several hours, monitoring his pulse and brainwaves in an attempt to figure out what had happened, and if he were able to speak, Kefka would have told them exactly what had happened. In short his brain imploded, or at least that's what it felt like. He found this thought rather amusing, and couldn't help the feeble attempt at laughter that escaped his lips.

When he recovered enough that he could be sent home, Kefka returned to his room on the fourth floor of the palace and went straight to bed. He collapsed on top of the covers without bothering to get undressed, his vision darkening as his consciousness started slipping away. It felt like he was falling, sinking deep into a world of shadows and fire. His fingers closed around the down comforter on the bed, gripping the soft fabric as he grit his teeth and moaned.

Everything hurt. His insides were in utter turmoil, screaming in agony as magic flared to life within his blood. He looked down at his hands, and could have sworn he saw the veins beneath his skin glowing faintly, illuminated by the magic that lingered in his blood, creating thin red lines that pulsed in time with his heart.

What was happening to him? Why did he still feel like his blood was on fire? His chest ached and burned as flames ignited in his heart, with heat radiating outwards and causing his temperature to rise. The light grew stronger, and suddenly he realized that his body was glowing, the air around him rippling in undulating waves of intense heat.

His fingers tore at the comforter, and he screamed, unable to restrain himself as the pain suddenly intensified. This was magic. It was his now. But he couldn't control it yet. It was too strong, too much for his inexperienced body to handle. A blinding light filled the room, spilling out across the floor and down the hall, and the next thing he knew he was falling, sinking down into the blackness that surrounded him.

\-----------------

Bizarre images flashed before his eyes. Light surrounded him, but it wasn't his own. Eyes, shining like shards of amethyst, peering at him through the dark. Was this real? Or was this just a dream?

No, he wasn't dreaming, for there were others who saw it too. They tried to approach her, but she was changing. They were changing. The light around them was growing stronger, pulsing in waves of crimson and violet, one magical being connected to the other, recognizing him for what he was. It was enough to trigger a change in her, one she wouldn't remember or fully understand for years to come.

When she sensed his pain and felt magic emanating from his unconscious body, she crawled into bed with him, dropping her plush moogle and letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. Her body moved of its own accord, gazing down at him as though she were in a trance. She instinctively knew what to do, her blank stare falling upon his face as she laid her hands on his chest, positioning them over his heart as the light within her grew stronger. She closed her eyes, letting the light wash over him, restoring his senses as he blinked and gazed up at her.

What was this child doing? And more importantly, how was she doing it?

The door cracked open, and the little girl turned around, snarling at them as she crouched down beside him on the bed. He knew he had to be seeing things. There was no way her mint green curls had become a flowing mane of violet, her fingernails shining like golden claws in the light that spilled across the floor. It was a figment of his imagination, fueled by magic and fever dreams. But as he watched, the people in the doorway fell back, cowering in fear, uncertainty showing in their eyes as they spied the girl beside him on the bed.

The light pulsed, shining bright within the darkness that surrounded them. Kefka slowly lifted his head off the pillow.

"Terra, what are you doing?"

Her head whipped around, her eyes wide as she stared at him. She looked frightened, as though she honestly didn't know who she was or how she got there. The light flickered, and suddenly their connection was broken, plunging him down into the depths of his unconscious mind as shadows surrounded him once more.

When he regained consciousness, Kefka found that he had been moved to an area within Vector that he was unfamiliar with. This was the hospital built within the Magitek Research Facility. The lower floors contained a holding area where Espers were held prisoner. A factory was located on the upper floors, where people worked to craft what would later become the first ever Magitek weapons and armor. And at the very top was the hospital, designed for those who were being used as test subjects in the Magitek Knight program.

This hospital was created for the soul purpose of treating those who had been infused with magic. Dr. Cid had enough sense to realize that someone who had been infused with magic could be dangerous. It was unknown what sort of effects magic could have on the mind and body. And so he requested that a hospital be built to house patients who required specialized care, providing them with medical treatment while at the same time keeping them away from the general public.

Kefka came to slowly, groaning as the florescent lights stung his eyes, the pain instantly traveling to his head and causing the ache in the back of skull to intensify. He sat up in bed, rubbing the back of his head and cursing under his breath. It was like someone was pounding on the back of his head with a sledgehammer, trying with all their might to shatter his skull into a dozen splintered fragments on the floor. He was surrounded by machines, with wires taped to his chest that peeked out from under the front of his hospital gown. What was he doing here? The last thing he remembered was collapsing in bed and then...

"Terra!" Kefka looked around for the little girl, but saw only Dr. Cid and one of the facility's medics standing beside the bed. "Where is she? What have you done with her?"

"She's alright, Kefka," said Cid. "We haven't done anything to her. She's with Leo now. He's watching her while you recover."

"Recover?" Kefka barked, his tone sounding more harsh than he had intended. "Recover from what?"

"My assistants found you passed out in your bed, Kefka. You had a seizure while we were transporting you to the hospital." He leaned over the side of the bed, removing a flashlight from his coat pocket and shining it in Kefka's eyes. "It's a good thing I sent them to check on you. We managed to control your fever and stabilize your heart rate, but I'd hate to imagine what would have happened if they hadn't found you when they did."

Terra was alright. It was just a dream. It had to be. Because if they had seen her like that, they would have carried her off and locked her away with the Espers in one of the holding cells. And yet something didn't feel right. He could still remember the way her eyes shone in the darkness of his room, piercing the shadows as her claws brushed against the covers of the bed, lightly scraping over his warm flesh. It had to be real. Or maybe he was seeing something in her that they couldn't.

"I'm going to keep you here for the next twenty four hours," Cid continued. "We need to perform some lab work to check the level of magic in your blood. And you need to be monitored for the next couple of hours in case you have another seizure."

Kefka sighed heavily, looking down at the blanket on his bed. He was exhausted. And long about now he couldn't tell if he was coming or going, or what was real and what was a dream. It felt like all his thoughts had congealed into one large, disorganized mass that had pooled against the back of his head, sitting there, fermenting, wasting away to nothing.

"Kefka, can you hear me?"

He nodded, closing his eyes and leaning forward in bed, placing his head in his hands as he massaged his aching temples. Why did having magic make him feel so horrible? He felt absolutely wretched, his thoughts drifting, wandering aimlessly in a fog. The only thing he knew for sure was that he really didn't want to be here right now, sitting in bed with everyone staring at him like he was some prized animal on display. And who was watching Terra while he was in the hospital? Leo? Is that what they said his name was?

A muscle twitched above his left eye, and Kefka felt something stirring in the back of his mind, like a dark fog swirling his thoughts together as the congealed mass started forming random thoughts and emotions from out of nowhere. He didn't know who Leo was, and yet he felt consumed by an intense hatred for this man. This man, who probably had no business looking after Terra while he was ill. Who decided that Leo would watch her? And since when did they have permission to make decisions for him? Terra was his responsibility. He was her guardian. And therefore he should have a say in who she stays with when he was incapable of looking after her.

"You don't have to do this," said Cid. "No one is forcing you to have this done. I can find someone else to do these experiments."

"And then what?" asked Kefka, lowering his hands and shooting Cid a sideways glance from between his fingers. "What happens to the next person who comes along and takes my place? He'll have to suffer through the same things I have. You've already started on me. We might as well keep going and see this through to the end."


	5. Drowning In Hate

He felt her fingers brush against the sleeve of his shirt, resting on his arm as she shook him, trying to get his attention. Kefka was vaguely aware of her presence, her voice barely penetrating the haze that clouded his thoughts, as he sat staring at the page he was supposed to be coloring. A thin trickle of saliva escaped the corner of his mouth, and was threatening to spill down his chin and onto his lap, when suddenly he blinked and looked over at her, frowning at her troubled expression as she gazed up at him.

"Are you alright?" asked Terra, looking at him with concern showing in her bright green eyes.

She was starting to worry about him. He'd sat down to color with her earlier that morning, and had done nothing but stare at the same page for the past ten minutes, his hand hovering over the book as he lost himself within the myriad of designs and colors.

Kefka brushed her hand off his arm, using more force than necessary as he all but pushed her away. He wiped the saliva off his chin with the back of his hand, then exchanged the blue pencil in his hand for a red one, and continued coloring as though nothing had happened.

Something wasn't right. Terra noticed that he was quieter than usual, often getting lost in thought and staring off into space for extended periods of time. When she asked him what was wrong, Kefka told her he was tired, and that it was nothing to worry about. She wanted to believe him, but she couldn't help feeling as though something was wrong.

Dr. Cid told her what had happened, sparing her some of the more unpleasant details about his seizure. He told her that Kefka needed time to recover, and that he might be a bit listless and groggy while he was recovering. Terra wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe both of them, but she had seen a change come over him in recent days that couldn't be explained. It was as though a shadow had passed in front of his eyes, like dark clouds obscuring the moon at night. Sometimes the shadow thinned, passing like a silken veil and restoring his senses as he became more active and alert. But it was always there, shifting and changing from one moment to the next.

"Kefka," she said, trying again to pull him out of his trance. "Kefka, the rain stopped. Can I go outside and play now?"

She watched as his gaze slowly drifted towards the window, looking out at the thin clouds that skirted across the sun.

"So it has," he said, still staring out the window as he watched the clouds passing by. Silence stretched between them, as he slid back into the inner recesses of his mind, taking a moment to process everything before he continued speaking. "And you said you wanted to go outside when the rain stopped?"

Terra nodded, hoping that she finally managed to get through to him.

"Alright then. Just give me a minute to get ready and we'll go."

\-----------------

Terra was only allowed outside when either Kefka or Dr. Cid was present to watch over her. She usually avoided other children, shying away from them and staying close to Kefka when he took her for walks through the city. All that began to change when she spent the day with a young man named Leo, who usually had a flock of children following him throughout the city.

Leo was a kind, compassionate individual who often spent time with the local children. He kept them entertained with games and stories, and was often seen playing ball with them in the streets, or sitting on the edge of the fountain telling stories to the younger members of his group. He cared deeply for the people around him, especially the orphan children who had come to see him as a substitute parent.

Kefka and Terra continued down the street, the little girl holding his hand as she walked beside him. Kefka looked up when the sound of laughter reached his ears, and saw a dark skinned teenager being chased by a group of children. The children were laughing and running in circles around the fountain. They appeared to be playing a game of tag, with the younger children trying their best to catch the teenaged boy that was running ahead of the group.

He watched the young man leap onto the rim of the fountain, laughing as the heels of his boots clicked against the white marble. It was clear that he wasn't the average teenager you saw running through the streets of Vector. His clothes were clean and pressed, his blond hair was well groomed without a single strand out of place. If Kefka were to take a guess, he'd say this boy belonged to one of the prominent military families that lived and worked in the palace.

"That's him!" Terra exclaimed, smiling as the boy was caught off guard by a blond girl wearing a green dress. The blond girl tackled him just as he was nearing the edge of the fountain, and they both went tumbling over the edge, landing on the ground beside the fountain. Terra broke away from Kefka, sprinting across the grass as she ran towards the group of children that surrounded the girl and her teenaged friend, who were now laughing and rolling around on the grass.

Before Kefka knew what was happening, Terra had joined the blond girl as they fought to subdue the teenaged boy. They wrestled with him until Terra clamped onto his leg, holding him down while the other girl sat on his chest. The girls laughed while the other children cheered, and the boy collapsed onto his back in mock defeat. He begged the girls to let him go, but the one perched atop his chest started tickling him, until his laughter rang out throughout the streets of Vector.

"Celes!" he cried, tears of mirth streaming down his face as she tickled his chest. "Celes, stop! Stop, I give up already!"

"Well, would ya look at that!" said one of the children in the group. "The big mean military man is crying! And all because he was captured by a bunch of girls!"

The young man sighed with relief as Celes slid off his chest. He then looked up and saw Kefka standing off to the side. "I'm sorry," he said, lifting Terra off his leg and standing her up beside him. "Forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is Leo. Is this one yours?"

So this was Leo, the young man they had left Terra with when he was too ill to care for her. Kefka took one look at him and was overcome with hatred for this young man. He was still fuming over how they'd taken Terra and given her to this boy without his consent. This boy, who had done nothing to deserve her affection, while Kefka had done everything for her from the time she was five years old.

"Yes, she is," Kefka snapped, seizing Terra by the wrist and nearly yanking her off her feet as he hauled her away from Leo. "And I'll thank you not to include her in your pack of misfit rodents." He then turned and started walking away, dragging Terra through the dirt as he stomped off in the direction of the palace.

As he was walking away, Leo stood up and called out to him. "Wait a minute. I know you. You're Kefka Palazzo. You're the one Emperor Gestahl keeps referring to as the Magitek Knight."

Kefka stopped, glaring at Leo over his shoulder. "So what if I am?"

Leo walked towards him, ignoring Kefka's foul attitude as he continued their conversation. "I've heard a lot about you from my father. He goes by the name of General Regulus Christophe. You've probably heard of him, or seen him around the palace from time to time."

"And do you work for the military as well?" asked Kefka.

"Yes, I do. I'm training to be an Imperial soldier. I started training three months ago, so it'll be some time before I advance in rank. I don't mind, though. Because right now I don't have a lot of work to do. Which gives me more time to spend with these guys. And this one," he smiled and put a hand on Celes' shoulder, "she's a real gem. Her name is Celes. She and Terra really hit it off a couple days ago."

"I see." Kefka looked down at Celes, then back at Terra as the little girl tried wriggling out of his grasp. She'd been struggling this whole time, trying to slip away from him so she could rejoin the group of children. "Is this girl your friend?"

Terra stopped struggling and looked up at him. She nodded, and Kefka looked back at Leo. He debated about whether or not he should let Terra play with the other children. And although he despised Leo and wanted nothing to do him, he decided not to let his hatred get in the way of Terra having a good time. At least he was the one choosing where she went this time, rather than having someone make the decision for him. He then spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the edge of the fountain, watching from a distance as Leo and the children played a game of kick ball.

Kefka's mind began to wander as he watched the children play. He started thinking about all the things he didn't like about Leo, such as his pleasant, cheerful attitude. It was sickening. Kefka literally felt sick to his stomach watching Leo smile and pass the ball to Celes. Or perhaps it was due to the excessive amounts of Esper magic floating through his bloodstream. Whatever the cause, Kefka quickly decided that he didn't like this boy. And his list of grievances was growing.

He didn't like that Cid had given Terra to Leo without his consent. He also didn't like the fact that Leo seemed to know more about him than he knew about Leo. Who told him that he was a Magitek Knight? Where was he getting his information? Kefka didn't use that term in front of Terra, so he couldn't possibly have gotten the information from her. He only told her what she needed to know, giving her basic information so she knew what to expect if he got sick.

He wondered if Leo was getting information from his father, and if that was true where was this boy's father getting his information? What was Gestahl telling him? How much did he know? These thoughts kept running through Kefka's mind, circling endlessly as they fueled his hatred towards Leo, Dr. Cid, Emperor Gestahl, and pretty much everyone else in the empire. He was told this was confidential, and yet everyone in the palace seemed to know his business.

His hands clenched in his lap, curling into fists as flames ignited his blood. He could feel the flames seething and writhing like some monster rising the deep, filling him with rage at he sight of this young man playing with his precious Terra. His body tensed, the energy continued to build, and just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, Kefka was hit with the ball the children had been playing with. The ball struck him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and sending him over backwards into the fountain. There was brief pause, before he broke through the surface of the water, screaming and cursing everything in sight. The children scattered like flies, running as Kefka summoned a towering wave of water from the fountain.

His eyes were blazing with sapphire flames, his blond hair plastered to the sides of his face as his cloak billowed out behind him. A cold wind was blowing, swirling around him and shaping the water into a funnel. With a flick of his wrist he sent the swirling column of water soaring through the air, hurling it towards the frightened children. The children screamed, but one child's voice rose above the others. It was Terra, yelling at him, telling him to stop.

Kefka turned, looking right at her, and for a moment he forget who she was. Then suddenly his vision cleared, and the shadow that passed before his eyes vanished. His anger dissolved in a matter of seconds, and the rising waves came crashing down around him. He didn't know how he managed to summon a wall of water, then command it to attack the children playing in the street. He wasn't even aware of himself or his actions when it happened, and suddenly he realized that this must be how Terra felt when she accidentally set the nursery on fire.

Terra ran towards him, climbing up onto the rim of the fountain and asking him if he was alright. Leo was next, cautiously approaching him as the children began to reemerge from their hiding places. Normally he was the one questioning Terra, asking her if she was alright after she'd accidentally shocked someone with a jolt of electricity, or singed the corner of her blanket after waking up from a bad dream. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of such questions, and it left him at a loss for words as the little girl tugged on his cloak, trying to get his attention.

"I'm fine," said Kefka, though he honestly didn't sound too sure of himself. He got out of the fountain and wrung the water out of his cloak, keeping his head down to avoid the curious glances from people on the street. Apparently the children weren't the only ones who'd seen his magical display in the center of town.

He grabbed Terra by the hand and whisked her away to the palace, not stopping to look back at the growing number of people who were now poking their heads out of windows, opening doors and looking outside. He could heard murmurs and whispers following him throughout the city as he hurried back to the palace, eager to escape the gaping throng that seemed to have materialized on every street corner. The only problem was that the majority of the whispers weren't coming from the people who were staring at him. They were coming from inside his head, as the Espers' voices stirred and came to life within his mind.

\---------------

Kefka sat on the exam table in Cid's laboratory, listening as the doctor wrote on his clipboard. Since when did the sound of his pen scratching against the paper get to be so loud? And why did every noise make his head hurt worse?

"And you're still not sure how you were able to use a water element spell?" asked Cid.

"No. I don't know how it happened. One moment I was thinking of fire, and the next thing I know I was knocked flat on my back in the fountain." Kefka cringed, listening to the sound of papers rustling as Cid sifted through his notes. The sound seemed to echo off the inside of his skull, pounding against his brain and causing the ache in the back of his head to intensify. "I suppose being knocked into the fountain startled me and changed my focus from one element to the other. And when I released my magic or whatever it was, it came out water instead of fire."

Dr. Cid flipped through the pages on his clipboard until he found the one he was looking for. "Ah yes, just as I thought. The first infusion I gave you was a combination of several different elements, including one from an Esper known as Leviathan, which explains your ability to use water based spells."

"Just what the hell are you putting in those injections? You said you gave me magic from Shiva and Ifrit. And yet every time I turn around the list keeps getting longer." Kefka didn't bother trying to hide the irritation in his voice. He was tired, more tired than he'd felt in weeks. All he wanted was to go bed and sleep, and yet he had to sit here and entertain this idiot.

"Forgive me. I should have been more open about what sort of tests I was performing. I thought a simple infusion containing various types of magic was the best way to start things off. You were only given five milliliters of Esper magic diluted with human blood. I didn't think it was enough to overload your system so quickly." Cid turned the page on his clipboard, scanning his notes before he continued speaking. "You're better off receiving separate infusions containing one type of magic at a time. And since you seem to handle fire better than ice, I think it would be best to give you straight fire magic until your body becomes accustomed to using magic. This should make it easier for you to tolerate the infusion process."

Kefka glared at him. "And you didn't think of that when you started giving me these infusions?" His voice was low, laced with deadly calm as he cocked his head to the side, eyeing the doctor with a look of pure hatred in his eyes.

"This is an experimental process," Cid explained. "You are the first to undergo the process of magical infusion. Everything I do is based on trial and error. I thought it was a good idea to start you off with a mixture of different elements. Then, based on your reaction to the first infusion, I could determine though a process of elimination which elements you're compatible with."

"How sweet. I'm your first. Was it good for you, Cid? Because I wasn't too thrilled with the experience." Kefka suddenly burst out laughing, right in Dr. Cid's face. For a full thirty seconds, there were no sounds but his harsh, bellowing laughter. And then suddenly it stopped, ending just as quickly as it began.

Kefka's face fell as he took on a more serious expression. "You didn't tell me you'd hand Terra over to some underaged whelp the minute my back was turned."

"It was an emergency, and Leo was the only person available at the time. He's quite popular with the children, and he comes from a well respected military family that has served the empire for two generations." Dr. Cid sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. "I'm sorry, Kefka. I should have discussed it with you beforehand. I just didn't expect you to have such a severe reaction."

Kefka sighed heavily, letting his gaze drift towards the corner of the room. "So where do we go from here?"

"If you want to continue the experiments, I would like to start giving you weekly infusions of Ifrit's magic," Cid replied. "And if all goes well, we can up the dosage in a couple of weeks, then maybe add a blend of magic from other fire element Espers until you're ready to try other elements."

"Hmm, yes, another blend of magic. You do enjoy filling me full of your enchanted cocktails, don't you?"

Cid scooted his wheeled chair around so that he was facing Kefka. "Listen to me, Kefka. You used magic. Aside from Terra, you're the only person in a thousand years who can use magic. That means the experiment is a success."

"Then why do I feel so horrible?"

The doctor returned to his notes, searching for something on his clipboard. "The lab results show a significant drop in the amount of magic in your blood after your incident with the water fountain. That, combined with your body's efforts to adjust to the changes its undergone, is probably what's causing the fatigue."

Kefka blinked his tired eyes, looking very much like he wanted to curl up on the exam table and go to sleep. The hatred he felt moments ago was quickly fading away. He couldn't even remember why he had gotten so upset in the first place. It was probably nothing. Just some trivial matter made worse by his headache and exhaustion.

Cid smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Go home, Kefka. Stay there and rest for a couple days. You should start feeling better once you've had time to rest and recover from everything you've been through."


	6. Embracing Heaven & Earth

The clock on Kefka's nightstand said it was just after five-thirty, but whether it was five-thirty in the morning or five-thirty in the afternoon he didn't know. The sky outside his bedroom window was dark, making it difficult for him to tell whether or not it was morning. Though long about now he was lucky he could tell left from right or up from down. He'd been through Hell these last few days, and it would be a while before he recovered.

He'd somehow managed to sleep thirteen hours straight after coming home and collapsing in bed. And yet he was still tired, his muscles aching and his stomach protesting the fact that he had slept through dinner.

Kefka rolled over onto his back, listening to see if he could hear anything which might indicate whether or not it was morning. He could just make out the dull murmur of conversation coming from the streets below, and he sat up in bed, moving closer to the window so he could hear what was being said.

He looked down at the darkened streets of Vector, and saw lights twinkling in the distance. The city looked beautiful at night, with streetlights glimmering like fireflies in the dark. The atmosphere was calm and peaceful, and the skies were clear, giving him a clear view of the multitude of stars shining overhead.

A gentle breeze drifted in through his bedroom window, lightly tugging at the strands of hair that had fallen into his face. He untied his ponytail, letting his hair fall forward to frame his face, spilling over his shoulders and down his back. He'd forgotten how much he enjoyed looking at the city lights, listening to the quiet footsteps as soldiers patrolled the streets. And as he gazed out at the city, admiring the beauty of the quiet evening and twinkling lights, he felt as though his mind was slowly drifting, wandering amongst the stars as his eyes closed and he started falling asleep.

He could feel the energy in the stars, the slowly spiraling galaxies, and the pulsating streaks and bands that lit the skies above. Never before had he felt so connected to the subtle energies of earth and sky, to the vibrations that carried with them whispers of a forgotten past, where Espers and human lived alongside each other.

The history of the world was written in the stars, with constellations in the shape of dragons, sea serpents and birds whose bodies were wreathed in flame. The ancient Magi gazed up at the night sky, and saw their gods traipsing across the heavens. They created the myths and legends that surrounded the constellations, with each one telling stories about the Espers that existed long ago. Nowadays most people didn't believe the stories, thinking that magic was just a thing of legend. And although their sacred images still adorned the nights skies, the world had forgotten what it was like to be in the presence of a god, and witness the destructive force of magic.

Aside from Terra, Kefka was the only one who knew what it was like to wield the power of the elements, to posses some small fraction of the ancient might that fueled these godlike beings. These creatures could summon meteors and banish life to unknown voids of desolation. Like spiraling galaxies of glittering stars, the powers of heaven and earth met within the Espers, joining together the very fabric of the cosmos, weaving it into a force unlike anything else on earth.

This was the power Kefka felt when he was first injected with magic. During that time he was allowed to look upon the faces of these majestic beings, as images from the past flooded his mind. He was shown flashes of memories, moments lost in time when the war had just begun. He was allowed to witness their strength, and feel their raw power coursing through his veins.

For one second, for one single solitary moment, Kefka felt his consciousness linking with theirs, his mind in sync with the rhythm of an ancient energy that still flowed through the center of the universe. This is what it felt like to be given the gift of magic. It was more than the ability to conjure fire and control the motion of the tides. It was tapping into a wellspring of infinite power. And in being given the ability to use magic, Kefka had been given something timeless. He'd been given a piece of the divine energies of creation. For he now had the power to create something out of nothing, to spark a flame that could grow into a raging inferno, and summon lightning from the heavens.

Kefka closed his eyes, letting the warm winds play across his face. He had never felt this way before. He was aware of the energy flowing through the dark corners of his mind. It pulsed and hummed with a life force all its own, creating a slow vibration that spread from his brain down the base of his spine. When he thought about using fire to incinerate the children that were swarming around Leo's feet, the speed of the vibration increased and created a sensation of warmth in his chest. The energy built until he couldn't contain it. But it came out all wrong when he was knocked into the fountain.

He didn't plan on summoning a wave of water from the fountain. He was overcome with such hatred that he wanted to watch them burn. But by then he'd already lost himself in the magic that consumed him. It was like his magic was controlling him, his senses dulled as his body moved of its own accord, summoning the water from the fountain and shaping it into a funnel.

There was such beauty in destruction, be it earth or fire, water, ice, electricity or air. Each tiny drop of water, shining like the sun in radiant hues of iridescent splendor. He felt the energy of the ocean, of rivers and streams flowing through him, drop by drop as he wove the liquid strands into a swirling torrent of raging waters. It had become a part of him, an outward extension of his inner power. This is what Terra meant when she said she didn't have to think about using magic, because you don't have to think when something is part of you, like nodding your head or snapping your fingers, the motion comes naturally without need for thought.

It wouldn't be long until they brought him into the lab, hooked him up to a bunch of machines and asked him to demonstrate his power. It made him wonder if he and Terra could practice their magic together. She didn't have anyone to practice with, and up until now no one had encouraged her to use magic. They didn't want her using something that could cause untold death and destruction. But if he was going to learn how to use magic then so should she.

He could learn something from her, seeing as she was the only other person with the ability to use magic. Kefka had many questions he wanted to ask. Questions that only she could answer. She was the only one he could talk to and confide in. They were different, set apart from the rest. They'd been given a gift as timeless as the stars, and no one else knew how it felt to possess such power.

He would speak with her in the morning, after he'd had time to collect his thoughts and see what he could find for breakfast. His stomach had finally settled and he was feeling hungry again. And for the first time since his last infusion he didn't have a headache. It seemed as though using magic was the key to relieving his headache and clearing his mind. He could finally string together enough words to form a coherent thought without getting lost in the fog that clouded his mind.

'I'll have to ask Terra if she gets headaches that are relieved from using magic,' thought Kefka. He then laid down in bed and went back to sleep.

\---------------

Terra was relieved to see Kefka out of bed and moving around. She practically flung herself at him as he came down the stairs, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him. Kefka responded by smiling and putting an arm around her, his other hand holding on to the banister as he made his way downstairs. He was moving slowly this morning, and didn't get out of bed until elven o' clock. His eyes were still glazed, but his mood had improved and he was acting like himself again.

"Wait here," said Terra. "Lunch will be ready in a few minutes. Dr. Cid said that you need to rest. So I'll take care of things while you get better."

Kefka appreciated her offer to make him lunch, but knew that if she had her way, she would most likely bring back an armload of cookies from the palace kitchens. Normally he would have insisted on making lunch, but he was tired, and he really didn't feel like walking down several flights of stairs to get to the kitchen. He'd done good just to make it out of bed and down the stairs to the living room.

Terra surprised him by returning with a tray containing a bowl of soup and some sandwiches. There was also a stack of chocolate chip cookies on the tray, and a glass of grape juice. He assumed the cookies were hers, and as soon as she set the tray on the coffee table she swiped a bunch of cookies from the pile and started eating.

She was such an adorable little girl, sitting there swinging her feet and smiling at him as she munched on a handful of cookies. She was wearing the earrings he'd given her, her plush moogle sitting beside her on the couch.

"Is the food alright?" she asked, watching as he tasted one of the sandwiches. Kefka was known for having unusual taste in food. And since the experiments began his food choices had become rather limited, due to the persistent nausea that often plagued him after each infusion.

Kefka nodded, chewing his food slowly as she reached for the glass of juice. She made his sandwich just the way he liked it, with nothing but a few slices of turkey and cheese. He then realized that he was practically starving, and finished the sandwich in a matter of minutes before reaching for another.

He finished his meal, and even snuck one of the cookies from the tray when she wasn't looking, then started asking her all sorts of questions about magic, as well as questions regarding how it felt to have and use magic. He asked her if it made her ill, and if she got headaches that went away after using magic. Terra said no, she didn't experience any sort of illness or headaches as a result of having magic. Although when she used too much magic at once, it sometimes made her feel weak and dizzy.

"And how do you know when you've used too much magic?" asked Kefka. "It's not like you use it often enough to know what that would feel like."

Silence stretched between them as Terra thought about how to answer his question. It was always difficult for her to describe what she was feeling in terms of having and using magic.

"I don't know. It's like being really tired. It feels like my energy has been drained, and all I want to do is sleep until I feel better. But there's a way to test how much magic you have."

Kefka sat up straight and leaned forward on the couch, giving her his full attention. "Enlighten me."

"You know that pressure you feel in your chest when you're about to use magic? Your muscles tense, and you can feel the energy building up and getting stronger. If you tense the muscles in your stomach, shoulders and chest, it's like it pushes the energy up inside you. And if it builds quickly, you still have lots of energy to use. If it's hard to gather a lot of energy, and if it takes a long time before you feel it building up, then you don't have much left and shouldn't be casting spells."

"How do you know that?"

Terra let her gaze drift to the side. "I've been practicing," she muttered, afraid that she might get in trouble if anyone found out what she was doing. "Please don't tell anyone. I know I'm not supposed to, but I can't help it. I want to use magic. So I've been practicing in secret for a while now."

"How long have you been practicing magic?"

She looked back at him. "Not long. I've been using fire to burn my initials into leaves and scraps of wood I find outside. Sometimes I'll draw on wood with fire, and make little hearts and flowers on things."

"Show me."

Terra looked around for something she could safely burn. She picked up one of the paper plates on the tray, gazing at it intently until it began to smoke. A thin whisp of white smoke rose into the air, and letters slowly began to form on the surface of the plate. She carefully burned the letters T.B. into the plate, making sure she didn't burn a hole through it. She used just enough energy to scorch the surface, turning it black as she wrote her initials in fire.

Kefka watched in amazement as she added a flower beside her initials. How was it that she had enough control over her magic to write and draw with fire? Either she'd been practicing longer than she wanted to admit, or it had something to do with her being half-Esper.

She handed him the paper plate when she was finished. "Do you want to give it a try? Just imagine the letters or image you want to draw. See the letters written in fire, and try to will them onto the surface of the plate."

Kefka held the paper plate, tracing the letters with his fingertips. His hands were shaking slightly. He didn't know if he had the strength to do this. And even if he did, what would happen if he couldn't control his magic? He had no desire to turn their living room into a raging inferno. Yesterday he didn't care if the whole town went up in flames, but now...

He looked up when he felt her hand on his wrist, and saw her gazing at him from across the coffee table.

"Relax," said Terra. "Accidents happen when you're nervous. Magic is a normal part of you now. Just let it flow like water from that fountain you fell into."

Kefka shook his head. "It's not normal. Not for me it isn't. I was artificially infused with magic. I wasn't born with it like you were."

Terra kept her fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding his hand steady. She smiled at him and said, "You can do it. I know you can. What you did yesterday is proof. You just need to learn how to control it."

He took a deep breath, and tried focusing on the paper plate in his hand. He imagined writing with flames, conjuring the letters and letting them float in the air in front of him. When he could clearly picture the letters in his mind, he tried willing them one at a time onto the plate. He felt the familiar sensation of warmth building in his chest, but it was difficult for him to gather the energy he needed to conjure fire.

Kefka tried to focus his energy and use it to burn his initials into the plate, when suddenly the plate ignited, bursting into flames. Terra shrieked, letting go of his wrist as he dropped the plate onto the metal tray where it burned itself out in a matter of seconds. It wasn't long until the paper plate was reduced to a pile of smoldering ash.

"Well, that didn't go as planned." Kefka sighed and slumped back against the couch, sinking into the soft, plush lining. "It looks like I'm going to need a lot more practice."

"That's okay. It took me days to learn how to make pictures with fire."

"Come here, Terra." He patted the couch cushion next to him. "Come sit down with me."

The little girl made her way around the table and sat down next to him.

He reached over and put his arm around her. "Would you mind teaching me how to do that? I don't have anyone else who can teach me how to use and control my magic. You're the only one, Terra. I could use your help."

"I'm not sure I could help," said Terra. "I'm not that good at it. It only looks easy because I've been practicing longer than you have."

"Then perhaps we should try practicing together. It would make things easier for both of us. And who else do you know that can conjure fire and summon water from a fountain?"

She took a moment to think about what he said, and realized that he was right. They were the only ones who could wield a power that allowed them to control the very essence of nature. The elements of earth and sky, fire and ice was theirs to use as they saw fit. In time they would gain access to even greater abilities. But for now they had learn how to control the gift that had been given to them.


	7. Nightmares

 

Kefka recovered slowly as one day faded into the next. He spent most of his time sleeping, either in bed or on the couch when he was able to make it downstairs to the living room. One morning Terra woke up and found him asleep on the couch, his blond hair in disarray as he lay on his side, one arm draped over the side of the couch with his fingers touching the floor. It took all his strength just to make it downstairs, where he collapsed on the couch and fell asleep the instant his head touched the cushion.

Terra knew that he was exhausted and helped out whenever she could, often bringing him his meals and coloring books in bed. When she saw him asleep on the couch, she went back upstairs and returned with a pillow and blanket. She carefully tucked the pillow under his head and covered him with the blanket, pausing when she heard him mumbling in his sleep. She worried that she might accidentally wake him up, but Kefka kept right on sleeping, unaware of the fact that she had snuck her plush moogle under the blanket.

The little girl smiled as he curled his arm around the stuffed animal, holding it close as he continued to sleep and dream. She then got dressed, made herself a bowl of cereal, and sat down on the floor with her coloring books, keeping him company while he slept.

Before long it was time for him to return to the laboratory for another weekly infusion. Kefka hoped it wouldn't be as bad as the previous infusion, seeing as how he was only going receive one dose of magic. Dr. Cid explained that it should take four to six months for him to reach to highest dosage he could give him via injection. He would gradually increase the dosage with time, then start the process over again with an Esper that possessed a different element of magic. The goal was to infuse Kefka with the three basic elements of fire, ice and electricity. Other elements and magical abilities would be added later depending on the success of the first three rounds of magical infusion.

This meant that Kefka would be having infusions every week for up to a year and a half. And that was only the beginning. He would still need blood transfusions containing Esper magic once he had built up a resistance to the weekly injections. The transtransfusions contained a higher dosage of magic, which would strengthen his abilities and allow access to newer and greater powers.

If everything went as planned, the process would be complete in three years. By then he should be able to generate magic on his own, without the aid of weekly infusions. The only problem was that Dr. Cid had no way of knowing what sort of effects this could have on Kefka's mental and physical well being. Because in order for him to generate his own magic, his body would have to change. Magic originated in the brain, which meant that any changes made during the infusion process had the potential to cause serious, if not irreversible, brain damage.

There was no way of knowing what Kefka would be like by the time the process was complete. There were bound to be side effects, due to the lack of refinement in the infusion process. The only thing they could do was hope that the process would be a success, and that Kefka wouldn't suffer a complete mental breakdown before everything was over.

\-----------------

Kefka arrived early for his weekly infusion, making sure he had time to prepare for himself for what would happen. He hated what these experiments were doing to him, making him so ill and exhausted that he could hardly get out of bed in the morning. But it was a small price to pay for the magic he desired.

He sat down on the exam table, rolling up his sleeve as Dr. Cid prepared to give him another injection. He felt the needle pierce his skin, followed by the burning sensation that always came when magic entered his bloodstream. He gasped, perspiration beading on his forehead as his pulse began to race. The sound of blood rushing in his ears drowned out the sound of Dr. Cid's voice.

Was someone speaking to him? He couldn't tell. He doubted if he even cared. What were they compared to him? Insignificant little flies. They sickened him. Yes, that was it. He was ill from looking at their hideous faces. Why didn't he see it before? Of course they had made him sick. Such wretched, worthless, pathetic excuses for human beings. It was their fault. They made him sick.

A fierce snarl escaped his lips. The look in his eyes said he wanted to kill, to burn and destroy every last living thing on the planet.

"Kefka?" Cid took a step back. "Are you alright?"

He started shaking, his vision growing dark as blackness crept into his mind. Kefka was unconscious before he hit the floor.

The following week wasn't any better. The fever and chills came on faster this time, his head throbbing with horrible pain as he wrapped his arms around himself, rocking back and forth and muttering over and over, "Don't pass out, don't pass out, don't pass out, don't pass out, don't pass out..."

His sight was swimming, the colors and shapes blurring together as he twitched and giggled, still hugging himself and rocking back and forth on the exam table. He was able to hold on for ten minutes before losing consciousness.

It took him a month and a half before he was able to avoid losing consciousness when he received an infusion. But the pain that overwhelmed his senses while he was conscious made him wish he'd given in, sinking down into the soothing blackness that promised relief from this unrelenting torment.

He felt his knees hit the floor, followed by cold steel pressed against his cheek. A scream tore from his lungs, and he started convulsing on the floor. He begged the darkness to consume him, twisting and writhing as foam dribbled from the corner of his mouth. But all he got in return was the sound of a thousand voices, echoing inside his mind, laughing as he thrashed and screamed.

He was still aware of his body as they carried him to the hospital, but his mind had disconnected from the rest of his senses. It didn't feel as though it to belonged to him anymore. He honestly didn't know who or what had invaded the sanctity of his mind, laughing as he passed from one brightly lit hallway to the next. His eyes rolled back in his head, and the laughter he felt welling up inside the darker recesses of his mind began spilling from his lips. Once it started it wouldn't stop. It kept coming in gushing waves, until his whole body shook with the force of his harsh, bellowing laughter.

This frightened Cid more than anything else he'd seen so far. They tried calming Kefka down but he was hysterical, still laughing as his eyes rolled this way and that. Kefka's nails dug into the mattress, his head pressed against the pillow as his back arched, and suddenly he screamed, releasing all the energy that had built up inside, causing the overhead lights to explode in a shower of sparks. The lights in the hallway flickered, and for several seconds the entire building was plunged into darkness.

Dr. Cid froze, his eyes wide as he gazed into the darkness that surrounded him. Kefka's laughter had subsided, and when the lights came on in the hall, he looked back and saw Kefka give one last shuddering breath before losing consciousness, his head lolling to the side as his eyes closed.

\------------------

Kefka was still asleep when Terra came to visit him in the hospital. She was accompanied by Leo, who sat on a chair beside the bed as Terra held onto the metal railing, rising up on her tip toes to get a better look at him. There were machines with wires attached to his chest and forehead, monitoring his heart and brainwaves while he slept. Every now and then he would shift slightly, muttering to himself in his sleep.

He was dreaming, adrift in an endless sea of black, where voices whispered and called his name, commanding him to rise and stand before the multitude of shadowy figures that were shifting and moving in the dark. Some of these figures were quite large, looming over him like mountains rising from the deep. Others moved about on four legs, hissing and snarling, their glowing eyes gleaming in the dark, while others had bodies like serpents, their coiled forms stretching and undulating in rippling bands of iridescent colors and light.

These serpentine creatures were capable of flight even though they didn't have wings. They floated gracefully through the atmosphere, surrounded by glimmering stars that moved and danced. These glittering specks of light were actually fairies, their wings fluttering as they joined hands, moving in waves, rising and falling like a waterfall of stars.

Kefka watched in awe as their shimmering lights filled the sky. They were so close. If he wanted he could have reached out and touched them. One of the fairy Espers flew towards him, eliciting a sharp gasp as he started and backed away. The tiny Esper giggled, smiling at him as she hovered inches in front of his face, before darting off to rejoin her friends.

What was the purpose of this dream? Why was he suddenly surrounded by these creatures? He felt as though there had to be a reason, some greater purpose, a reason why he was here. And then he saw it, a monstrous Esper with several pairs of wings and scarlet claws the color of blood. It moved slowly, shuffling along as its hunched form made its way towards him. Kefka took a step back, the creature's hot breath steaming in the cold air as it leaned over him. He recognized this Esper. It was the same one he'd seen fighting to escape the holding area, roaring and spewing flames as soldiers fought to drive it back into its cell.

_"Do not fear me, little man, for I am your destiny."_

The Esper was speaking directly into his mind, communicating through thought as Kefka stood gazing up at the massive creature.

_"Come. Embrace the past, and find your place amongst the gods of chaos and destruction."_

The scene changed, and the next thing he knew he was standing on the steps of an ancient castle. Voices were screaming, as soldiers fought to defend the castle. Bruised and blackened clouds raced across the horizon, bringing with them the call of thunder. The ground trembled and quaked as the roar of a dozen Espers rose above the screams, mingling with the thunder as lightning flashed overhead. Kefka was spellbound by their awesome might, unable to move as he watched the swarm of Espers racing to join the soldiers in battle.

Their battle cries rent the air, and one by one their enemies fell to fire, to lightning, to devastating blows that cleaved their opponents in two. An Esper by the name of Odin rode into battle astride a magnificent white horse, wielding a sword that gleamed like burning rays of amber sunlight, shining brightly amid the darkness. With one swift motion he beheaded a soldier that had foolishly chosen to attack him from the rear, then turned quickly and stabbed another soldier in the chest, impaling him upon his shining sword.

Kefka watched as Odin raised his sword, lifting the dying soldier off the ground where he dangled like a limp rag doll upon the end of his blade. The ground was littered with broken bodies and severed limbs, the rivers of blood intermingling as they cascaded over the cold, hard earth, forming pools that soaked into the ground, and all around him everything was burning, engulfed in waves of towering flames.

Terra started, leaping backwards and falling into Leo's arms as Kefka awoke with a scream. He glanced wildly around the room, searching for the beings that haunted his dream. It took him a minute to remember where he was. And then he saw her, being helped to her feet by Leo. Terra looked up at him, taking a few unsteady steps forward as she approached the bed.

"Are you okay?"

He was still shaking, the crisp, white bedsheets soaked with perspiration. Kefka swallowed hard and nodded, wanting to reassure her that everything was fine. He didn't want her to worry about him, even though he could still hear the Espers screaming, their voices lingering on the edge of his subconscious, along with the gruesome images of death and carnage he'd witnessed in his dream. It would be sometime before he could rid his mind of these horrific images, but the voices would remain, unrelenting, as their quiet whispers began corroding his sanity.

The nightmares would return to haunt him, the same images of destruction and war repeating night after night. Sometimes he would wake up to the sounds of laughter, hearing a demonic voice echoing in the darkness of his room. It was all around him, penetrating the depths of his mind like a toxic sludge, dripping from burning walls made from melting red shadows. The steel that forged his nightmares became razor blades, strung up from a ceiling of bones and iron chains. He wasn't even aware of the fact that he was screaming, that he was still asleep, as the chains wrapped themselves around his body, and the decaying remains of long dead Espers seeped from the walls.

They told him he was bound to them, and that the chains could not be broken. The flames of war were growing higher, and all around him soldiers and Espers were dying. The chains rattled as he twisted and screamed, struggling against his bonds as he fought to escape. He felt the essence of magic burning in his blood, his screams becoming feral cries, unearthly sounds that human vocal cords weren't capable of producing. His hands were trembling, his fingernails lengthening into claws, and still he screamed, howling and flailing, the magic in him begging for release, until suddenly he opened his eyes and saw Terra sitting on the bed beside him, holding him down as he kicked and thrashed.

These nightmares became more and more frequent as the months passed. One night he woke up to the sound of laughter, and realized that it wasn't coming from the voices in his head. It was coming from him. It was the same insane laughter he belted out the night they rushed him to the hospital, when he caused the lights in the ceiling to explode. It was so forceful his fists clenched against it, and blood trickled from his palms as his nails dug into his flesh.

He'd forgotten who he was. He didn't know if he was asleep or awake, his mind disconnecting from his body as he continued to laugh, the high pitched sound startling Terra as she sat bolt upright in bed. It was a terrible sound, one that frightened her even more than when he woke up screaming. At least when he woke up screaming, tangled in his bedsheets and drenched in sweat, she knew it was because he'd had another nightmare. But this...there was no explanation for this.

The sound carried down the halls, filling the air with wild, frenzied laughter. Sometimes he laughed for several minutes, until she was forced to shake him, calling his name as she tried to bring him to his senses. He would then sit there staring at her, or glance around the room in confusion. It was like he didn't know her and couldn't remember where he was. Terra told herself that he probably wasn't awake enough to know where he was or what was going on. But even if that were true, it still didn't account for the insane laughter that had woken her up in the middle of the night.

She scooted closer to him, noticing the crimson fluid that oozed from his hands, staining the sheets with flecks of blood. His hands were trembling, and his eyes widened when he saw what she was looking at.

"Don't tell Cid," he said. "You can't... No, you mustn't. Don't tell him, Terra. Whatever you do, do not tell Cid about this."

The little girl reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand, and started cleaning the blood off his hands. The cuts on his palms weren't deep, but they had left behind a bloody mess on his bedsheets.

"Why not?" asked Terra. "Shouldn't he know about these nightmares you've been having?" She wouldn't even mention the laughter, hoping that maybe it had been a dream, and that she had imagined the horrible giggling and cackling.

"It's none of his business. People have bad dreams, Terra. And I'm not some two year old that has to go crying to his mommy every time he has a bad dream."

Terra hesitated before finally asking him the question she'd been holding back for so long, the one she'd been afraid to ask for fear of what his answer might be. "This isn't because of those experiments, is it?"

Kefka's hand was trembling as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Of course not," he spat. "You think just because you're a child you're the only one who has nightmares?"

"Well, no. It's just that - "

"Then quit your whining and let me go back to sleep."

Now it was Terra's turn to look confused, because even when he was glaring daggers of pure hatred at Leo, or complaining about how some soldier had looked at him funny, Kefka always managed to keep his temper in check. She'd never seen him snap at anyone, and she certainly didn't expect him to snap at her.

Kefka laid down in bed with his back facing her. He could feel the cuts on his palms burning and stinging, but even that seemed far away, dulled, like the rest of his senses. He was furious with her for waking him up. She knew he had to get up early and be at the lab for another infusion. How dare she barge in here and wake him up? Especially when he was having such a lovely dream.

Terra lingered beside the bed, listening as he snorted and started giggling. The mass of blankets quivered as he laughed, his whole body shaking as he thought about the delightful images of carnage and bloodshed he'd seen in his dream. His laughter gradually subsided, and silence filled the room, followed shortly by the sound of snoring. It wasn't until he had fallen asleep that Terra quietly tip toed out of the room.


	8. Practice Sessions

Machines whirred on either side of him as conveyor belts carried the skeletal frames of large machines up from the depths of the factory. A portion of the Magitek Research Facility had been made into a factory that churned out mechanical armor. It had taken them five years to complete this part of the facility. And now that things were up and running, they could begin building the first ever Magitek armor and weapons.

Kefka leaned over the railing, watching the mammoth beasts riding the conveyor belt. He had difficulty trying to imagine someone piloting one of those lumbering tanks. Where was the driver supposed to sit? Surely they wouldn't sit on top of that hideous contraption.

He started when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked back to see the doctor grinning at him.

"So? What do you think, Kefka? Thanks to you, we were able to begin developing Magitek armor and weapons. And this is only the beginning. Once the first few suits are complete, and the correct formula is established that will fuel the armor, the empire will be well on its way to becoming the most powerful nation on the planet."

"I think you're getting ahead of yourself, Cid," said Kefka. He pulled a paisley handkerchief from his pocket, and used it to wipe the perspiration that was beading on his forehead. "You haven't even finished with me, and yet here you are with plans on infusing these...what did you call them again?"

"Magitek armor."

"Whatever. All I'm saying is that maybe you ought to finish one thing before you start another."

"Ah, but the decision wasn't mine to make, Kefka. After I presented the Emperor with my latest progress report, he decided it was time to begin constructing these suits of armor. It'll still be a few years before the process is perfected. These are just the prototypes. But by the time I'm finished with your infusion, we should be ready to start working with machines."

"Machines are lucky," Kefka muttered. "They're inanimate objects. They don't think or feel. Which means that they won't have to suffer through the same thing I have."

Dr. Cid patted him on the back. "You're doing much better, you know. This is the first time you've been able to move about without fainting after receiving an infusion."

Kefka was silent, watching as one mechanical beast after another passed by on the conveyor belt. He hadn't told Cid about the nightmares he'd been having, or that he couldn't sleep more than three to four hours at night. He'd gotten used to the lack of sleep, as well as the other side effects he had to deal with, such as nausea and headaches.

He managed these side effects by taking naps throughout the day, and by altering his diet. Almost everything he ate made him sick to his stomach, so he switched to eating small, bland meals such as sandwiches, applesauce and soup. As long as he ate light and was allowed to nap whenever he felt like it, he could manage the side effects until they began to subside two to three days after the infusion.

It didn't take him long to realize that the Emperor was more lenient with him than he was other members of the Imperial army. Kefka wasn't punished when he fell asleep during a meeting, or when he was late to work because he'd spent the last twenty minutes in the bathroom being violently ill. Gestahl adjusted Kefka's work schedule, giving him the time he needed for routine infusions and medical tests, and let him get away with doing whatever he wanted.

In short, Kefka was Emperor Gestahl's pampered pet. There was talk of him being promoted in a few months after he completed the first round of infusions. But at what cost? Kefka was slowly starting to lose his mind. So far he'd done a good job concealing the more serious side effects, and had been able to keep his violent impulses under control. If it weren't for his training with Terra, he might not have been able to suppress the desire to annihilate everything in sight. Their training helped keep him calm, and served as a form of stress relief. Without it he would have gone insane faster, due to being unable to release the pent up anger and aggression he felt.

Terra had been watching him, paying close attention to his mood and behavior during the last few months. She'd seen a change come over him, watching as his once bright, blue eyes clouded over. He started having mood swings, and had gone from being quiet and reserved to short tempered and irritable. Sometimes he would yell at her when he became frustrated over something that was bothering him, or pace back and forth in the living room, complaining loudly about one thing or another.

She was the only one who had seen this side of him. Kefka did it because he felt comfortable enough to vent his problems to her, knowing that she would always listen and try to help in any way she could. No matter how bad his day was, Terra could always make him feel better. She genuinely cared about him, and he was extremely grateful for her care and attention.

"Come," said Cid, turning and heading towards a metal staircase "There are other things I want to show you. Most of it is still under construction, but I think you'll like what you see."

He led Kefka up six flights of stairs, twisting and turning as they made their way towards the upper levels of the facility. They made it up four flights of steps before Kefka stopped, clinging to the railing as he fought to catch his breath. The doctor stopped once he realized that Kefka had fallen behind, then quickly turned around and headed back down the steps.

"Kefka, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Kefka wheezed. "Just give me a minute." He was shaking so bad that Cid was afraid he might collapse. The doctor helped ease him into a sitting position on the steps, then sat down beside him while he waited for Kefka to recover.

"We aren't far from the main lab if you need to rest a bit."

"That won't be necessary," said Kefka, dabbing at his face with the paisley handkerchief. "I can do this. It takes me a while to bounce back from those infusions. But it'll get easier with time. I just have to keep moving forward."

Dr. Cid noticed the determination in his voice. It was always there, no matter how sick he got from repeated infusions. Even when he had his first seizure and Cid told him that he didn't have to go through with this, Kefka was determined to see this through to the end. No matter what happened, he was going to become the first Magitek Knight, and make history as the first person in a thousand years to wield the power of magic.

"So, what have you got in here?" Kefka asked, turning and looking up the stairs.

"We're building a new holding area for the Espers, one specifically designed with new equipment for draining their magic. We're going to need it once you progress to having blood transfusions, because the method we're using right now isn't enough for large scale infusions. And we need to extract more magic to power the Magitek armor. So the Emperor went ahead and gave me the materials and funds needed to upgrade my equipment and expand my laboratory."

"More magic?" These were the only words that registered in Kefka's mind. They were going to start pulling more magic out of these creatures. Which meant that he would get stronger, and gain access to a variety of newer, better spells.

"Yes." Cid nodded. "The old methods are quickly becoming outdated. But the new technology I'm developing should be enough to power everything from weapons to armor."

"And me," Kefka hissed, his lips barely moving when he spoke. There was a mad glint in his eyes, and he smiled, stuffing the handkerchief in his pocket and standing up. "Show me the new holding area. I want to see what you're doing with my lovely little magic makers."

They continued on their way, until they reached the top floor of the facility. Here they saw over a dozen capsules, each with a large metal base that had several wires, tubes and cables connected to it. Multicolored cables crisscrossed the floor, and bits of metal were heaped up beside the containtment vessels. The wall behind the capsules consisted of one large machine, which he assumed was the generator that would power these devices. There were also several smaller machines attached to the capsules, all of which were in various stages of development.

"It'll be awhile before we get these up and running," said Cid, pushing past Kefka and making his way towards the back of the room. "But this one," he stopped beside one of the capsules, "this one is closer to being finished than the rest. It should give you an idea what it'll be like once the new machines are finished."

Kefka walked up to the capsule, his reflection gazing back at him as he looked up at the thick sheet of glass that was attached to the steel base.

"By the time the Espers reach these specialized containment vessels, they should be too weak to put up much of a fight," said Cid. "But to be on the safe side, we've constructed these walls with triple reinforced glass, which contains a twenty percent mixture of powdered diamond to help strengthen the material."

"And how long until they're fully operational?"

"If all goes well, they should be ready by the time you're to begin having magically enhanced blood transfusions."

Eight months. Just eight months until the ultimate power was his. Kefka smirked, his eyes shining with the light of madness as he imagined seeing an Esper imprisoned in the vessel. Its pain would be his pleasure, laughing as it cried out in agony, as every last drop of magic was drained away. Like a predator stalking its prey, Kefka would feed upon these helpless creatures, devouring their strength until their bodies began to wither and decay.

\-----------------

The hour was late. The inhabitants of Vector had retired for the evening, asleep in their beds while two of the city's occupants were busy fighting each other. Flashes of gold, red and green illuminated the western side of the palace. Lightning danced across the glass, and a scream was heard, cutting through the silence of the warm summer night.

Kefka hurled a bolt of lightning at Terra, knocking her off her feet and sending her flying across the living room, where she landed in a pile of pillows and couch cushions that had been strewn across the floor. Blankets were piled up in the corners of the room, some with burn marks and spots of blood on them, and feathers from torn pillows covered almost every inch of the floor.

Feathers flew as she fell back against the pillows, and Kefka laughed, conjuring a ball of flames in his hand. He flung the fireball at her, only to have it ricochet off a greenish-blue shield as she reflected it back at him. Kefka screamed and ducked, and the fireball went sailing out an open window where it disappeared into the night sky. Anyone watching the scene from a distance would have sworn they saw a comet streaking across the heavens, as Kefka's fireball went soaring over the mountaintops.

Terra fought back by conjuring several small, dazzling balls of electricity. She levitated the red and green spheres in the air around her, and one by one sent them flying towards him. Kefka hadn't learned how to cast Reflect yet, and had safeguarded himself against her attacks with Shell. It helped take the sting out of her attacks, though he was left with his hair standing on end after being electrocuted several times.

"It's not funny," Kefka growled, trying his best to smooth out his frizzy hair. He pulled his hair back and tried tying it in a ponytail, only to have the hairtie snap seconds later.

Terra laughed even harder as the elastic band went shooting across the room like a rocket, and Kefka retaliated by conjuring a barrage of miniature icicles that flew towards her. She rolled over just in time, ducking behind the couch as the icicles impaled themselves in the furniture. Laughing, she leapt up above the couch, slinging another ball of electricity at him before taking cover behind the furniture. Kefka had chosen this moment to conjure his own crackling ball of blue electric light, hurling it at her from across the room. Both spheres met in midair, resulting in an explosion of blue and gold sparks.

Terra peeked out from behind the couch, watching as the air shimmered with glittering specks of electricity. They watched as the dazzling display of light flickered and danced in the air between them, then slowly faded like trailing streaks of stardust in the night sky.

"Did you see that?" asked Terra, grinning as she looked over at him. "It was so pretty!"

"Yes, it was. But pretty isn't what they're looking for at the laboratory. All they care about is how much progress I've made. And tomorrow I'm supposed to give them another demonstration. So we should probably call it a night and go to bed. I need to make sure I've saved up enough energy for tomorrow."

Terra crawled out from behind the couch, yawning and stretching as she stood up. It felt good to exercise her magical abilities every now and then. And thanks to Kefka, she'd been given permission to practice with him whenever she wanted.

"Can I come with you tomorrow?" she asked. "I'd like to see what goes on during the demonstration."

"Why? It's no different than when they make you stand up in front Cid and his assistants, documenting everything as you cast spells for them. Besides, you've seen me use magic plenty of times. So there is no need for you to come with me."

"But I want to be there for you," Terra insisted. "You've always been there for me. When I was hurting and scared, you comforted me and made me feel better. You fixed my moogle, and held my hand when I cried through all those awful tests. You taught me to believe in myelf. So why can't I be there for you?"

Kefka wanted to yell at her, and tell her that he didn't need someone to hold his hand while they injected him with whatever magical cocktail they came up with that week. Ha, the flavor of week. How amusing. And an excellent vintage too! Aged to perfection and ready to fuel another one of his blood soaked nightmares. He could sit back and sip Esper wine, watching as the world burned and Odin roasted their enemies' heads on a stick. Wait, what was he thinking?

He blinked his eyes, suddenly remembering where he was, then shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I suppose you have a point. You can come with me tomorrow to watch the demonstration, but that's all. I don't want you with me during the infusions. I'd rather you didn't see what goes on then."

"Kefka, why don't you want me seeing what happens during your infusions?" 

A muscle twitched over his left eye, his hands trembling as they clenched at his sides, curling into fists as he remembered his last infusion. Dr. Cid told him he'd done well. Patronizing little shit. Oh look! The Emperor's prized pet has learned how to walk! He can actually stand up and walk just minutes after receiving an infusion. Someone get this poor bastard a doggy treat! Just don't get too close. He has claws, you know. And he may or may not have clawed the assistant's face on purpose while he was lying there, kicking and screaming as they tried to hold him down.

He took a deep breath, and said in a voice of forced calm, "I have my reasons, Terra." He suddenly looked much older than a man of twenty-five. His eyes were bloodshot, with deep, dark circles under them. It was a miracle he was even standing, let alone having practice sessions with her. But once you got an ounce of magic in your blood it was difficult to sit still.

Kefka put a hand on her back and gave her a gentle nudge. "Off to bed with you now. I have to get up early tomorrow. And so do you, if you're coming with me."

\--------------

Kefka sighed, his gaze drifting towards the window on the opposite side of the room. Terra was sitting in a chair in the next room, and waved at him when she saw him looking in her direction. A smile creased the corners of his lips, and he wiggled his fingers at her. Maybe having Terra here wasn't so bad after all. It certainly helped keep his mind occupied while he waited for Cid to finish getting everything ready.

He was lying down in a reclining chair while Dr. Cid marked the spots along his forehead and scalp where he would attach the electrodes. Each spot was scrubbed with a special cream that helped the electrodes get a high quality reading. Dr. Cid would then use an adhesive gel to attach the electrodes to his scalp.

Kefka gave an exaggerated yawn, covering his mouth with his hand, and Terra started to giggle. "I told you this wouldn't be any fun," he said. "It's so boring. They could at least give me some magazines or something to read while I wait."

Although she was in the other room, Terra could hear what he was saying via the intercom. All he had to do was press a button beside the chair and he could talk to her. The system was designed to let Cid call for assistance if things got out of hand. But that didn't mean Kefka didn't enjoy playing with it from time to time.

Dr. Cid checked the connections, then glanced at the readout on the machines. "Everything looks fine, Kefka. You may proceed when ready."

He began by taking a deep breath, inhaling slowly as he attempted to clear his mind and focus his thoughts. Kefka rubbed his hands together, and began to feel a warm, tingling sensation in the palms of his hands. He tensed the muscles in his upper body, and a faint bluish glow could be seen emanating from his hands.

The doctor nodded and made a few notes on his clipboard. "That's good, Kefka. Now try conjuring one of the three basic elements."

It was no surprise that Kefka started with fire. He rubbed his hands together again, then held them a few inches apart as a flicking flame sparked to life within his cupped hands. The light grew stronger, and within seconds a ball of fire had formed. He was to show that he had control of his magic, and so Kefka experimented with increasing and decreasing the size of the fireball. He did this by moving his hands farther apart, the fireball growing in size the farther apart his hands were, then shrunk when he brought them together again.

Dr. Cid was impressed with his level of control over fire, and asked him to try conjuring a different element. This time Kefka went with electricity, rubbing his hands together vigorously until a crackle of electricity arched from his fingertips. He yelped and almost flew out of the chair as a shower of sparks erupted from his hands.

"One moment." Kefka closed his eyes as he concentrated on the feel of electricity flowing through his veins. He remembered the electric spheres Terra conjured last night, and cursed himself for not asking her how she did it. He then tried to create an electric orb of light, visualizing a glowing web that he shaped into a ball. This required more effort than conjuring fire, and showed on the machine's readout as a change in the patterns on the screen.

While he was working on shaping the electricity into a ball, the door opened and Leo walked in. Terra turned her head, smiling as she looked up at him. They started talking, and when Kefka looked up and noticed the two of them in the room together, there was a sudden explosion of light as a shower of sparks erupted from his fingertips.

"Dammit!" Kefka swore, turning in his seat and glaring at Dr. Cid. "What is he doing here?"

"The Emperor has given him permission to view the demonstration," said Cid, not taking his eyes off the readout on the screen as he spoke. Something had caused a sudden spike in Kefka's brainwaves, just seconds before he lost his focus and let fly with an explosion of colorful sparks.

Kefka ground his teeth together, his fingers gripping the arm of the chair so hard his knuckles turned white. If Leo was here to watch the demonstration, then why was his attention focused on Terra? It was all a bunch of lies. He wasn't here for the demonstration. He was here for Terra, just like before, when they took her from him without his consent. Did they think something was going to go wrong? Were they waiting for him to have another seizure so Leo could step in and save the day, whisking her away in his arms like some knight in shining armor.

Cid looked back at Kefka, and gasped when he saw the man trembling with rage, his body surrounded by a pulsing red light. "Kefka, what are you - "

"Fira!"

Terra screamed as the window shattered, exploding outwards as flames spilled into the room. Leo grabbed Terra, lifting her out of the chair and running with her out the door. He could still hear Kefka screaming as he ran down the hall, the little girl in his arms screaming just as loudly, as she struggled and tried to free herself from his grasp. She thought there had been an accident, and she was worried that Kefka might be hurt. Little did she know that Kefka wasn't the one she had to worry about, and that if he caught up to Leo, the man was as good as dead.


	9. Save the Queen

_'This is all that's_   _left_   _now... Voices_ _and_ _screams, nightmares playing on_   _an endless_   _loop..._   _I_   _want her_   _back... Give her to me! So help_ _me..._   _I'll_   _carve your_   _eyes_   _out of_   _your_   _skull_   _so you'll_   _never look_   _at her again!'_

"Kefka, stop! What are you doing?"

 _'Dear_ _god, what's happening to_   _me?'_

Emperor Gestahl was there when Kefka attacked Leo. He watched as Kefka screamed and fought, kicking the doctor in the face and falling to the floor, still screaming Terra's name as they seized him by his cloak. The fabric ripped as he lunged forward, flying at Leo as the young man backed against the wall.

_'Terra... Please forgive me...'_

"Stop him!"

' _I'm_   _so sorry...'_

"You're dead! You're all fucking dead!"

"Kefka!"

Flames spilled out of the broken window, licking at the walls as smoke poured into the hallway. Blood dripped onto the floor, marking the spot where Kefka had thrown one of Dr. Cid's assistants against the wall. The Emperor smiled, his eyes reflecting the flickering flames that danced across the walls. The moment he'd been waiting for had finally arrived.

Kefka awoke several hours later with a headache that thought it was an aneurism. He tried to move, but the pain in his head stilled him. He lay still for several minutes, fighting against the urge to throw up. He could feel the crisp, cool sheets gliding across his skin when he rolled over in bed, as well as some sort of material wrapped around his hands. It felt like a glove, restricting his movement when he tried flexing his fingers. Or maybe it was some kind of mitten.

A thin sliver of light pierced the darkness behind his eyes, causing an intense, shooting pain to erupt at the base of his skull. He then sat up and vomited over the side of bed, clutching the metal railing as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor. He was shaking uncontrollably, with sweat pouring from every inch of his body. Everything was spinning. Why wouldn't it stop spinning? And then he heard them, voices coming from down the hall.

"You cannot be serious! You saw what happened in there. Something set him off, and until we figure out what caused it, he is not to leave the hospital."

"You do not have the authority to decide what happens to him."

"But - "

"The Emperor has made his decision. You are to obey his orders and release Palazzo on the day of his choosing."

Kefka groaned. What were these ignorant buffoons prattling on about now? No wonder he had a headache, listening to these insipid little monkeys droning on and on. It was enough to make him ill.

The world suddenly turned upside down, and Kefka collapsed against the mound of pillows on the bed. The voices were growing louder, swirling inside his head. He stared vacantly at the ceiling, his vision blurring as images faded in and out of focus. He closed his eyes, then opened them and saw someone standing beside his bed, dabbing at his face and neck with a damp washcloth. They were still talking about him, their voices mingling with the voices that echoed in his mind. It was too much to focus on all at once, too many voices, too much pain. He let go of the tangible mass of his mind, allowing himself to sink into the blackness that surrounded him, begging it for release from this endless torment.

\--------------

He was running, surrounded by a sea of flames as Odin's fierce battle cry shook the heavens. He had to find her. His precious Queen. If he didn't find her, if he lost her to the flames of war, then all hope was lost and the world would fall into ruin. They needed their Queen to guide them. He had to find her before it was too late.

Espers charged the enemy ranks, surging forward and crashing like waves upon rock, their voices forming a cacophony of hellish howls and screeches as soldiers fell before them. Odin raised his sword towards the sky and roared, "Defend the Queen! We must protect her!"

The Espers fell back, their ranks broken by the soldiers, driving and plunging their blades into the enchanted beings. Blood spilled out onto the ground as one of the Espers found himself impaled on the end of a shining, silver blade. With his last breath, he gripped the soldier's sword, snarling as he reached out with his other hand and sunk his claws into the man's face, ripping his head clean off his shoulders and tossing it into the flames before falling to the cold ground below.

Kefka was still running when the fallen Esper hit the ground. The force of his massive body striking the earth caused the ground to shake beneath his feet, and Kefka stumbled, falling to his knees beside the dying Esper.

They were dying. They were all dying. His eyes wide with horror, Kefka watched as another Esper fell, screaming as she toppled over and was lost amid the flames, her wings catching fire as she was burned alive. How was this possible? These creatures were legendary, their strength unrivaled by that of mortal man. How was it that they could be slaughtered like dogs, brought down by soldiers who dared to challenge the power of the gods.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a woman screaming. He looked up and saw the Queen of the ancient castle, running from a man who was chasing her across the battlefield. This man, who was wrapped in flowing robes of green and gold, was laughing as he chased her, but Kefka couldn't see his face. It was obscured by the hood attached to his robe, preventing Kefka from getting a good look at him.

Kefka conjured a roaring ball of fire, then hurled it at the sorcerer who was chasing his beloved Queen. But his enemy was quick and leapt aside, dodging the attack with ease. The sorcerer laughed, and sent a bolt of lightning hurtling towards him. Kefka barely had time to shield himself, raising his arms and crossing them in front of his face, his fists clenched and his head bowed as he conjured a shield made from bluish-green shards of light. The shield reflected the spell back at his foe, who dodged the attack just as easily as he had before.

The sorcerer turned, vanishing in a flourish of swirling green and gold fabric. Kefka thought he had fled the battle, and he screamed, furious that his enemy had escaped. The lights went out around him as the sea of flames parted, and suddenly he was surrounded by six copies of the evil sorcerer, each one standing with his hands raised above his head, a massive sphere of crackling electricity hovering in the air above them.

He spun in a circle, looking left and right for an escape route. A blinding flash lit the night sky, and all at once he was struck by half a dozen bolts of lightning, the electricity surging through his body with the force of a hundred thunderstorms. Kefka fell to the ground, the sorcerer's laughter ringing in his ears as he started shaking and convulsing. His vision was growing dark, his nerves on fire with tremendous pain. He thought for sure that he was going to die, his body left to rot alongside the Espers who had given their lives in battle. And then suddenly it stopped as a pair of hands brushed against his side, calming the painful spasms that twisted and contorted his shaking limbs.

He looked up through trailing strands of blond hair, his chest heaving as he fought to draw air into his lungs, and a single word escaped his lips.

"Terra."

The Queen knelt beside him, her soft, green curls falling forward to frame her face as she leaned over him. She looked older than he remembered. She wasn't a child anymore, but her eyes still shone with the same pure, innocent light they had when she was young. It was this gentle light, filled with sincerity and love, that helped soothe his tired mind and aching body, calming him, comforting him, assuring him that everything was going to be alright.

"Terra." He was trembling as he spoke, her arm moving beneath his back as she lifted him off the ground, carefully positioning him so that his head was resting in her lap. "I don't know what's happening to me. I don't... I don't know what's wrong..."

"You're becoming one of us," said the Queen. She held his hand, gently squeezing it as she gazed into his eyes. "I know it's difficult, but you must remember who you are. Your humanity is still a very real part of you. Do not forget your human heart, Kefka. This heart is where you truly live. This is who you are."

"I don't know if I can," he murmured.

"Yes, you can. And you must. I believe in you, Kefka. I know you can get through this."

Kefka spent the next several hours drifting in and out of consciousness, his mind and his body struggling to come to terms with what he was becoming, while images of the war kept playing in his mind. And each time he fell she was there to help him up, helping him through the fire, through his trials and his torment. She was always there, trying to ease his pain, while inside he was screaming, struggling, as he fought to overcome the madness that was slowly poisoning his mind.

\----------------

Sunlight was streaming through the window, and this time he was able to tolerate the bright light without experiencing any pain. He shifted slightly, the crisp, clean linen rustling softly against his skin. Someone was in the room with him, and as his vision cleared he saw that Dr. Cid was standing beside the bed.

Kefka grit his teeth and hissed in pain, as the doctor reached for his hand and began removing the bandages that had been wrapped around his fingers. "What happened?" he asked, his voice low and groggy.

"That's what I'd like to know." The doctor unraveled the bandages on Kefka's hand, exposing layers of burnt, peeling flesh. "You had an accident during the testing procedure, which resulted in second degree burns to your right hand. Your left hand was also burned, though not as badly as the right."

"What?" Kefka sat up in bed, examining his hands in the sunlight. His garnet ring had been removed, leaving behind a mark similar to a tan line where the gold band prevented his skin from being burned. There were sore, pink blotches lacing the sides of his fingers on his left hand, but they were nothing compared to the damage that had been done to his right hand. Here the skin was blistered and peeling, the burns completely covering his fingers and extending towards his wrist, marking the back of his hand with ugly red blemishes.

"All things considered, it could have been a lot worse. There will probably be some scarring, but other than that you should be just fine."

If he wasn't still in shock over what had happened, Kefka would have laughed. 'Just fine,' he thought. 'What kind of sick joke is that? I haven't been 'just fine' for a year.'

"Do you want to talk about it? What happened in there? Do you remember what happened before accident?"

Kefka was silent, sitting up in bed as Cid changed the bandages on his hands. He didn't like the way the doctor looked at him when he said that, questioning him the way a parent would a misbehaving child. He suddenly felt the urge to reach over and strangle him, his hands closing around his throat as he choked the life out of him.

"Kefka?"

"No," he whispered, his lips barely moving when he spoke.

"No what?" asked Cid. "No, you don't want to talk about it? Or no, you don't remember?"

' _No, I don't want to talk about it, you_   _worthless sack of shit. You let him in here, and yet you have the nerve to question me?'_  

"I don't remember," Kefka lied. It was starting to come back to him. He remembered seeing Leo talking to Terra, and felt the hot, burning pulse of magic surging through his veins. He must have blacked out, losing consciousness from the blinding pain that came after he unleashed a powerful fire spell, shattering the glass and charging through the broken window at Leo. Blinded by his rage, he wasn't fully aware of his actions. He used a type of magic he didn't know how to control, which resulted in the burns on his hands.

"That's alright," said Cid, giving him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "You take it easy, Kefka. Get some rest, and maybe it'll come back to you in a while."

Kefka glared at him, watching as the doctor picked up his clipboard and began writing something down. He hated that man. He hated all of them, and wished this miserable little city would burn to the ground.

"We're going to keep you here overnight, Kefka. I'd like to run some tests, check the levels of magic in your blood, the usual. I'd also like to monitor your brainwaves for a full twenty-four hours, which includes measuring the activity in your brain during sleep."

The thought of being monitored for a full twenty-four hours made Kefka nervous. He feared that spending a night in the hospital hooked up to one of Cid's machines would reveal the horrific nightmares he had, and he didn't want the doctor to see him like that, not after he'd attacked Leo and tried to kill him.

It was attempted murder, though no one in the palace seemed to realize that. They didn't see his anger and aggression for what it was, thinking he had had an accident and lost control of his magic. However it was enough to make them keep their distance. The only one who wasn't bothered by his 'accident' was Gestahl, who came to visit him in the hospital as soon as he heard that Kefka was awake.

Kefka and Cid were in the middle of discussing the twenty-four hour monitoring test when the Emperor walked in, flanked by two Imperial soldiers.

"Your Highness, what a pleasant surprise, sir. I wasn't expecting to see you here." Kefka hesitated for a fraction of a second. "I'm not in any sort of trouble, am I?"

"Not at all, Palazzo. In fact I've come to make you an offer. How would you like to come with me to the kingdom of Figaro? We are attempting to form an alliance with them, but there has been some resistance." Gestahl curled a few strands of his graying beard around his finger, a smirk forming on his lips as he studied the stunned expression on Kefka's face. "I could use someone with your talent to help me get through to them."

Cid's eyes widened, looking from Kefka to Gestahl. He knew what the Emperor was implying, and now wasn't the time to haul Kefka out of bed on a cross country crusade.

"I...well, I mean..." Kefka was taken aback by the Emperor's response, so much so that he could barely speak. Gestahl just let him go, a smile spreading across his face as he listened to Kefka stuttering and stammering as he tried to collect his thoughts, a task which, given his current mental state, was becoming more and more difficult these days. "You'll let me... I mean to say, you want me to come with you, to help you with these people in Figaro?"

"Oh no, Palazzo." Gestahl waved a finger at him. "This isn't an ordinary mission involving civilians and the common, low life trash that scampers about in the streets. I have something bigger in mind. Much bigger. I'm talking about a meeting with the King himself, to see if he can be persuaded to join us. He may choose to side with the empire. And if not..." His words trailed off, as he waited to see if Kefka could piece the rest of it together on his own. He wanted to see what he would make of it, what he took from that and what his reaction would be.

It took him a moment to catch on to what Gestahl was saying, and then something clicked in his mind, and Kefka started giggling. "Right." He nodded, and Gestahl's broad smile stretched from ear to ear. "It would be my pleasure, sir."

"No." Cid shook his head. "Absolutely not! Forgive me, your Highness, but Kefka is in no shape to leave the palace. I haven't even finished the latest round of tests on him."

"Have you at least completed the basic tests?" asked Gestahl. He seeemed bored with the conversation, and had no interest in listening to the doctor rambling on about this and that. He was going to have his way no matter what the doctor said, and no amount of arguing or protests would change his mind.

"Yes, but - "

"Then I'd say you've kept him here long enough." His tone made it clear that his decision was final. "I'm ordering his immediate release. He is to prepare for departure first thing Sunday morning. You'll be coming with us, doctor, to make sure he receives his weekly infusions on schedule. I don't want him missing an infusion just because he's away on business in another country."

Dr. Cid's mouth dropped open in shock. Kefka took one look at the expression on his face and burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. The whole situation was hilarious, and he collapsed onto his back in a fit of wild, cackling laughter. Emperor Gestahl looked pleased with his reaction, and bid the doctor farewell as he left the room, leaving Cid to stare at Kefka as the young man continued laughing for a full minute before he was able get a hold of himself, and even then he was still snickering and giggling from time to time as he yelled at Cid to bring him his clothes so he could get dressed and leave.


	10. Internal Struggle

Books and clothes scattered in every direction as the lid on Kefka's suitcase flew open, spilling its contents all over the bed. This was the third time he'd tried cramming everything he needed for his trip in his suitcase, and needless to say he was having some difficulty making everything fit. It didn't help that he had never left the country before, and had no idea what he should take with him. So he tried packing a little of everything, which resulted in a larger than life mess that he couldn't possibly fit into his suitcase.

Kefka sighed and sat down on the foot of the bed. His hands were still bandaged and sore, and he'd spent most of his time trying to fold and stuff his belongings in his suitcase using only his left hand, since his right hand was practically useless. He looked at the mess on the bed, then glanced at the empty trunk sitting in the corner. How on earth was he going to pack everything while his hands were still covered in a thick layer of bandages? Leo would probably laugh if he saw him struggling to shove a mound of clothes into his suitcase with only one hand.

"Terra!" he called out. "Come here. I need your help with something."

He hadn't told her that he was leaving, and was trying to postpone the moment for as long as possible. He didn't like the thought of being separated from her for an extended period of time. He knew that she would be upset when she found out he was leaving, and without her Kefka wouln't have anyone to talk to when the stress of dealing with these imbeciles on a daily basis started getting to him. And to make matters worse, he was sure they were going to leave her with Leo while he was away. It was enough to make him want to scream and kick his suitcase right off the bed.

Terra entered the room a few seconds later, hesitating slightly as she stood in the doorway. She looked at the mess on his bed, giving him a curious expression as she walked into the room. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Yes, dear, I am. The Emperor has requested that I join him for an important business trip." He shifted slightly, then moved off to the side so he wasn't sitting on the clothes that were spread out on the bed. "I'm leaving in two days, and I won't be back for quite some time."

Terra hugged her plush moogle to her chest. "How long will you be gone?"

"About a month, give or take a couple days. It'll be my first time away from Vector, and the longest I've ever been away from home."

When the little girl looked as though she were about to cry, Kefka told her that they would be able to keep in contact with letters, and that she could write to him as often as she liked. He promised he'd write to her, and tell her about everything he saw during his trip to Figaro.

"Think of it as a vacation," he said. "I'll get to see new places and meet new people. And not many people are fortunate enough to get paid for going on vacation."

"But why can't I come with you?"

"Believe me, Terra, if I could bring you with me I would. But I can't. And I honestly don't know what I'm going to do with myself while I'm away." His gaze drifted towards the scorch marks on the floor, left behind during one of his nightmares when he thought he was being attacked in his sleep. He fought back against the monsters in his dreams, and if weren't for Terra rushing in and calming him down, he might have succeeded in setting the room on fire. "You know how I get sometimes," he murmured, keeping his head down as he avoided her gaze. "I don't want them seeing me like that."

"Why not? Maybe they can help."

"No, Terra." Kefka shook his head. "I can't... I can't let them see me like that."

He was so tired. Everything was getting on his nerves - the voices, the stress, the nightmares and lack of sleep. He was excited about going to Figaro, but part of him just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. His mood was constantly shifting, from fits of spontaneous laughter to a type of quiet, restless anxiety. He couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth, that he felt he was beyond their ability to help, and that no matter what anyone said or did, he was slowly losing what little sanity he had left after months of experimentation had taken their toll on him.

He remembered most of what happened when he attacked Leo, but he was starting to lose track of time. Memories that had been clear were starting to fade, while others were blending with images from his nightmares, until everything around him slowly became like that of a waking dream.

"Come here, Terra," he said, motioning for her to come forward. On the outside he was smiling, but on the inside he was fighting back tears. He didn't know how much time he had left before he lost himself and all the memories they had made.

Terra approached the bed and Kefka put his arms around her, holding her like he'd done when she was little. "I'm not leaving right away, Terra," he said softly. "Let's make the most of what time we have left while we still can."

Meanwhile, in another part of the palace, Dr. Cid was trying to talk the Emperor out of letting Kefka go with him to Figaro. He followed Gestahl around, trying everything he could to convince him that Kefka needed to stay in Vector.

"Your Highness, please, just take a look at his medical records. I've been documenting his symptoms for the past year. He's unstable, and he needs to be kept in isolation so we can monitor him for a couple days." He stopped suddenly when the Emperor turned around and almost ran right into him. He swallowed hard, cowering under his fierce gaze as Gestahl glared at him. There was a brief pause before Gestahl summoned his guards with a snap of his fingers, and ordered them to remove the doctor from his sight at once.

"I've already seen enough," he said in a voice of deadly calm, watching as Cid was hauled off by the guards. "It's my turn to test his abilities. And as far as I'm concerned there is nothing wrong with him."

Later that night as Terra slept soundly in her bed, Kefka stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom, the door locked as he experimented with an assortment of makeup he'd set out on the counter. 'I'm fine,' he thought, his hand trembling as he applied another layer of makeup to his left cheek. 'I'm fine. Everything is going to be alright. I'm fine. If they think I'm still smiling they won't know. They'll never know. No one has to know.'

Terra's doll was sitting on the counter beside the jars of makeup. It was the same doll he had given her that she rejected in favor of her plush moogle. He picked it up, holding it as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. "Everything is going to be fine. I'm fine," he muttered, stroking the doll's hair. His lips twitched, and he tightened his grip on the doll before throwing his head back and laughing.

\----------------

One set of footsteps could be heard moving along the cobblestone street, followed by several muttered curses and grunting. The soldiers looked up and their mouths dropped open in shock. There was Kefka, trying his best to drag a heavy suitcase up the platform onto the dock. He was wearing red eyeshadow, matching red earrings, and had painted his fingernails bright red. All this combined with his usual red attire made him look like a blazing ball of scarlet flames. And as if that weren't enough, he had tucked a variety of colorful feathers in his hair.

"Dammit!" he spat, pausing to adjust the feathers in his ponytail. "You there!" Kefka shouted at the soldiers. "Are you going to stand there looking stupid, or are you going to help me?"

The Emperor glanced over his shoulder, looking rather bored as he motioned for the soldiers to assist the young knight with his belongings. The soldiers quickly jumped up and ran down the dock. One of them picked up the suitcase, only to have the latch break seconds after he started carrying it up the platform. Coloring books, colored pencils, clothes, makeup, and Terra's doll spilled out onto ground. There was a brief pause, just long enough for Kefka to draw breath, before he let fly with a high-pitched, ear splitting scream and started shouting obscenities at the unfortunate soldier.

"You damn, dumb, son of a submariner! Can't you do anything right?! Clean this mess up right now, or so help me, I'll flay your hide to doll rags!"

Gestahl smirked, watching as Kefka created a scene right there on the dock. Dr. Cid came forward, his hand on Kefka's shoulder as he tried talking to him and calming him down. A scuffle ensued, in which Kefka succeeded in pushing Cid off the dock and into the water. This was going to be a very long trip, and Gestahl was loving every minute of it.

They boarded the ship in Albrook and began their journey to South Figaro. From there they would travel to the kingdom of Figaro, reaching the castle in approximately two weeks.

It didn't take long for Kefka to realize that he disliked being at sea. His sensitive stomach couldn't handle the motion of the waves lapping at the side of the ship, and he spent the first day of their journey hanging over the side of the boat, his ridiculous feathers bobbing on the breeze as he vomited into the water.

Kefka groaned, clinging to the railing as the ship swayed and rocked. His vision blurred, and he thought he saw movement on the surface of the water. A pale fin tipped in blue and red splashed in the water, sending up a spray of droplets as the hulking body of a large sea creature emerged from the waves. It was Leviathan, one of the Espers that haunted his dreams, its massive jaws opening as it arched its serpentine body and roared.

Water spilled over its sides, glistening in the morning sun like a thousand luminescent pearls. Kefka's eyes widened, and he screamed as the Esper lunged at him. He tried to run, tripping over the hem of his cloak and falling into the arms of one of the soldiers that was standing behind him.

"Are you alright, sir?" asked the soldier, looking at him with concern.

Kefka blinked and looked out over the water. The ocean was calm, without a trace of the vicious Esper that had leapt out of the water and tried to devour him. "I'm fine," he mumbled, his eyes darting left and right, searching for any sign of the elusive sea creature. "What sort of monsters inhabit the waters in these parts?"

"I think there are anguiform out here. But they're rare. It's mostly just fish and the occasional aspiran."

"Right. Anguiform. That must have been it then." Kefka looked down and saw ripples slowly spreading across the surface of the water. He could feel the vibration in the current as the ripples moved outwards, and heard a voice speaking to him from within the deep.

_"Kefka..."_

A flash of scales, sunlight reflecting off the droplets of water, and the voice spoke to him again.

_"Kefka... Where are you? Are you hiding from me?"_

The voice spoke with a hollow echo, ringing in his ears as it grew louder, forming ripples on the water that were moving towards him, searching, hunting. They would find him soon enough, and when they did...

_"No escape... You cannot run from me..."_

He had to get out of here before he had a breakdown in front of everyone on the ship. Kefka excused himself, weaving between the soldiers as he headed for his cabin below deck. He started running as soon he was below deck, trying to escape the voices in his head. But there was no escape. They were all around him, laughing, screeching, howling, a thousand voices screaming, pushing him to the limits of his endurance until he was sure he was going to break under the weight of their combined voices yelling at him all at once.

He flung the door open and fell to his knees beside the bed. His fingers found the broken clasp on his suitcase, fumbling for a moment as he struggled with the latch. He practically tore open the leather case, his nails scraping against the surface and tearing the material. Kefka dug through his suitcase, tossing books and clothes onto the floor until he found what he was looking for. He found Terra's doll buried at the bottom of the suitcase, and sank to the floor, hugging it against his chest as he rocked back and forth.

If he had thought spending time away from Vector would help with his deteriorating mental state he was wrong. He'd only been gone half a day, and already he was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. He kept seeing those ripples on the water, moving closer, hunting him in the darkness of his mind.

"My doll. Terra, my precious doll," he murmured. "Lovely, lovely doll. Sweet thing." He started giggling. Dear god, it was happening again. Why couldn't he control these urges? He gripped the doll, crushing it against his chest, as wild, cackling laughter poured from his lips. Once it started it wouldn't stop. He didn't know how long he sat there, laughing like a maniac, until the darkness found him, and he woke up on the floor several hours later, still clinging to Terra's doll.

\------------------

Kefka spent the next few days in his room, the curtains drawn as he lay in bed with a damp washcloth draped across his forehead. He developed a severe migraine that left him bedridden for three days. During this time he was frequently ill, and was unable to keep anything down but small sips of water. His sleep was interrupted by frequent nightmares, and there were times when he would wake up and find an Esper perched upon the foot of his bed. Sometimes the creature spoke. Other times it would sit there staring at him, preventing him from falling back asleep, until it vanished just as suddenly as it appeared.

His illness revealed itself one morning when Cid came downstairs to administer his next infusion. Within minutes of receiving the injection Kefka was bent over double on the side of the bed, the doctor holding his hair back as he retched and gagged, expelling a rancid mass of greenish bile and water into the bucket beside the bed. When Cid asked him what was wrong Kefka blamed his symptoms on sea sickness. He didn't tell him about the migraine, or his nightmares, or the fact that he was now hallucinating and seeing Espers everywhere he looked.

The doctor advised him to stay in bed and rest, and said that he would give him some medicine to help settle his stomach. Kefka thanked him and laid back down in bed, closing his eyes and letting the doctor examine him. Dr. Cid always stayed with him for at least thirty minutes after giving him an infusion, checking his vital signs and watching for any sort of adverse reaction. He pressed his fingers against the inside of Kefka's wrist, checking his pulse and writing the results on a notepad, then held his hand against the mage's forehead.

"You're awfully hot, Kefka. I think you have a fever."

Kefka chuckled, his eyes still closed as a faint smile formed on his lips. "Why am I not surprised? It feels like everything that could possibly go wrong has gone wrong since I set foot on this miserable excuse for a ship." He started wondering if maybe the boat was cursed, or if the Espers had done something to sabotage the mission. Yes, that's it. The Espers were plotting against him. That's what they were talking about when they whispered back and forth to each other in his head. Leviathan probably put something in the water, poisoned it with his magic, just like he had poisoned Kefka's mind. It made perfect sense. These damn Espers were trying to kill him.

The doctor slipped a thermometer under his tongue, then frowned when he read the results."One hundred and two degrees. Though I don't know if it's from the infusion or if you're coming down with something. I think I'd better stay here with you just in case."

"No!" Kefka sat up in bed, and immediately regretted his decision as he was hit with a sudden wave of dizziness.

"Lie down, Kefka. You need to take it easy for a while."

Some feeble attempt at language dribbled past his lips, and Kefka fell back against the mound of pillows on the bed. He was too tired to fight anymore, too tired to care. Maybe, if he stopped trying to fight and gave into the Esper's demands, it would get easier. They might stop trying to kill him if he succumbed to the madness that was clawing at the inside of his skull. But what would happen to Terra if he lost his mind? Would they still allow him to see her?

He'd been fighting for so long now, and it was all for her, so he wouldn't lose the one thing he cared about more than anything else in the world. She hoped he would get better, they both did. But hope, as well as the dreams he once had, were meaningless now. There was no hope left in this world, and he had no use for dreams that died upon the blade of a long dead Esper, turning to stone, then crumbling to dust as the wind carried it away into oblivion.

The following morning he got out of bed, rising before Cid had a chance to wake up and start questioning him on his health, his various symptoms and everything else that was wrong with him. He had no desire to sit and listen to this man. All it did was remind him of how far he'd fallen since this began.

The sun was rising, its light masked by a thick veil of clouds, with light rain falling on the surface of the ocean. Kefka climbed the stairs, slowly making his way to the deck of the ship. Every bone in his body was aching, his tired muscles protesting the simple act of climbing the stairs and walking across the deck. Raindrops fell on his face, causing the limp, loose strands of blond hair to stick to his face and neck. The rain felt good against his hot skin, and he closed his eyes, tilting his head back and letting the rain ease some of the heat from his fever.

The voices in his head were quiet this morning, and for the first time in what felt like years he could finally think. He moved towards the railing, leaning against the iron bars as he looked out at the horizon. He decided that today was the day he would start writing to Terra, not just as a means of communication, but as a way to preserve the memory of who he was, so that years from now, when they carried him away and locked him up in a padded cell, she would still have something to hold onto.

He knew he couldn't save himself, but maybe he could save her by giving her a piece of himself, something that would remind her of the better days, moments they shared before everything started falling apart. As long as she remembered, as long as one of them was able to hold onto their dreams and keep fighting, then perhaps there was still hope for the future.


	11. Madness

Hot winds raced across the desert sands, ruffling the delicate blossoms that bloomed on spiny limbs. There were several species of cactus growing along the castle walls, surrounded by rocks and gravel that formed intricate patterns and walkways leading to the entrance of the castle. It was a truly beautiful scene, the elegant blossoms dipping and waving in the hot summer breeze. But Kefka took no notice of the lush scenery. He was too busy complaining about how hot it was, and how much he hated the heat, the sand, the sun, and pretty much everything else about the desert.

"Figaro!" Kefka spat as he hot footed it across the sand. He was practically running, bouncing on tip toe like he was walking on hot coals. "Hot fucking Figaro and its hot fucking sun!"

"Is there a problem, sir?" asked one of the soldiers.

"Yes! No. Oh, this wind is going to blow the feathers out of my hair!" Kefka stopped long enough to gather his cloak about his waist, then tugged his pants legs up and ran full speed towards the castle, yelling something about there being sand on his boots.

Emperor Gestahl was already at the door, waiting patiently to be let into the castle. He looked back when he heard Kefka's high pitched scream split the silence of the calm, quiet afternoon, and saw the mage leap onto the path, shaking his feet like a wet cat trying to rid itself of excess water after it had been tossed in the lake. He raised an eyebrow, watching Kefka's performance as he danced and cursed. Unfortunately, Kefka chose this particular moment to let fly with a string of obscenities, kicking up his heels as one of his boots flew off and went sailing through the air, hitting the guard in the face just as he was opening the door to let them in.

Kefka stopped screaming and cussing, his eyes wide as the face of King Stewart appeared in the doorway beside his royal guard. The mage put a hand over his mouth, stifling the fit of giggles that was threatening to escape his lips. Gestahl then reached around and shoved Kefka behind his back, hiding him from view as he bowed his head and apologized to the King.

"You'll have to excuse my knight. He seems to have had an accident."

"No, I didn't." Kefka's grinning face popped out from behind Gesthal's right shoulder. "You want to line up a couple more for target practice?"

"Dammit, Palazzo!"

"Uwee-hee-hee!"

Dr. Cid stood back and watched in amazement as Kefka ran out from behind Gestahl. A few days ago he was still feverish and lethargic. But this morning it was like Kefka had become an entirely different person, and was now laughing and running in circles around the Emperor. He was unable to sit still, always shifting and moving, stroking the feathers in his hair and smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in his cloak. It made Cid wonder what had happened, and if he should be worried about this sudden change in his behavior.

Kefka finally stopped beside the Emperor. "Right right. So sorry," he said, bowing low before the King. "Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Kefka Palazzo, the one and only Magitek Knight from the kingdom of Vector." He looked up at the King, and a wide, predatory smile spread across his face. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, your majesty."

"So this is your knight," said Stewart, eyeing Kefka with a curious expression on his face.

"Yes, this is Palazzo." Gestahl dusted off his robes, then shot Kefka an angry glance before continuing. "He is the first in what in will eventually become a long line of fierce and powerful warriors."

"The very best!" Kefka chimed in, his hands behind his back as he rocked back and forth on the heels of his feet.

"I see." Stewart motioned for them to come inside. "Come. We can discuss this further after you've had a chance to rest. I'm sure you must be tired after your long journey."

"Not to mention hot, thirsty and with a third of the flesh burned off our feet!" Kefka paused, pulling an orange feather out of his ponytail and examining it closely before tucking it back in his hairband. The others were already halfway up the steps when he looked up from rearranging his feathers "Hey! Wait for me!"

Gestahl moved out of the way, flattening himself against the wall as Kefka skipped past, humming a tune as the feathers in his hair bounced along behind him. Cid looked at the Emperor, and had just opened his mouth to speak when Gestahl shook his head, smiling and chuckling in amusement at Kefka's childish antics.

"Just let him go," he said, waving off Cid's concern. "He's perfectly fine."

"But sire, don't you think his behavior is a bit unusual?"

"No, not at all. He's clearly enjoying himself." He lowered his voice, making sure he was out of earshot of the King before continuing. "I want to see what he'll do. That's why I brought him with us in the first place, so I could see what would happen if I turned him loose."

"You what?" Dr. Cid turned around, and saw Kefka staring at the fabric that adorned the windows of the castle.

The curtains were made from the finest silk, moving and billowing like liquid satin in the warm winds that swept across the desert. Kefka was mesmerized by the movement of the flowing silk, the vivid colors drawing his attention as they moved and danced on the wind. It was like a symphony of colors in motion, the gold fibers rippling amongst a sea of royal blue and deep crimson.

Kefka sighed in contentment and cocooned himself in the curtain, smiling as King Stewart walked past. "I love what you've done with the place," he said, snuggling against the soft material. "Do you mind if I take some of this home with me?" He was suddenly yanked off his feet as Emperor Gestahl grabbed him by the arm and drug him down the hall.

"Come on, Palazzo. You can romance the drapes later."

\-------------------

They were given a room on the west side of the castle, complete with beds, a fireplace, and a small dining area. The bedroom floor was covered with a thick, emerald green rug, the windows wreathed in the same luxurious silk curtains that hung in the main hall.

Kefka set his suitcase down on the foot of the bed, then knelt down to examine the rug. He ran a hand over the plush material, feeling the fibers brush against his fingertips. This place, with its fine silk and elegant rugs, was a thing of beauty. They didn't have rugs and curtains like this in Vector. Everything was grey, from the steel beams to the metal catwalks, his private living quarters and the laboratory where he underwent his weekly infusions. It was a cold, lifeless, sterile environment. It had no color to give it life. It was boring.

He sat down on the bed and removed one of the coloring books from his suitcase, along with Terra's doll and a pack of colored pencils. Kefka propped the doll up against the headboard, then poured the pencils out on the mattress and began coloring. He needed something to keep his mind occupied, a simple task that would quiet the voices in his head. However the simple task wasn't quite as simple as it used to be, due to the thick layer of bandages wrapped around his hand.

He gripped the pencil in his right hand, trying hard to stay within the lines as he filled in the intricate patterns. A few minutes later the door opened, and Dr. Cid entered the room, telling him that it was time for dinner. When Kefka didn't look up from his picture, the doctor tried calling his name to get his attention, and Kefka all but crushed the pencil in his hand, sending bits of colored graphite streaking across the page.

"What?" he snapped, glaring at the doctor. "Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?"

"Your presence is requested in the dining hall. Emperor Gestahl wants you there when he starts negotiating with the King..." The rest of his words were lost as Kefka looked down at the splintered fragments of lead that were scattered across the pages of his coloring book.

Kefka wasn't even hearing him anymore. A muscle twitched above is left eye, his lips quivering as he struggled to contain the laughter that was building in his chest. He didn't even know what was so funny. Certainly not this mess. There was a blue streak that had strayed outside the lines, ruining his lovely picture. He was aware of the fact that someone was talking, but it meant nothing to him. Just another voice droning on and on like a broken record.

"Are you alright?"

"Hmm?" Kefka looked up from his coloring book, acting as though he'd just become aware of the other man's presence. "Yes, yes. Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" He forced a smile on his face, grinning while all the world inside his head was screaming. Why wouldn't they leave him alone? Why wouldn't they stop? Just stop talking for a minute so he could think.

The doctor hesitated, lingering in the doorway as he looked at him with concern.

"Run along now," said Kefka, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "I'll be down in a moment. I just need a few minutes to get ready. Have to make myself look presentable, you know."

He waited until the door closed before ripping the page out of his coloring book and setting it on fire. "Damn you, Cid!" he shouted. "You ruined my masterpiece!" He hurled the burning ball of paper out the window, then snatched the doll off the bed and headed for the door.

Kefka was still fuming as he made his way downstairs towards the dining hall. His headache had come back, and he was fighting the urge to either scream or laugh. His thoughts were so muddled that if he opened his mouth he wasn't sure what would come out. He started swinging the doll at his side, holding it by the arm much like a child would their favorite toy. A smile creased the corners of his lips. Stupid Cid, thinking there was something wrong with him. He was more than alright, he was ecstatic. It was like fire burning in his blood, filling him with such energy the likes of which he'd never felt before. He wanted to run, he wanted to dance and sing, he wanted to set the whole world on fire. Why on earth would anyone think something was wrong? He'd never felt so alive!

"Figaro!" he exclaimed suddenly, running down the hall and leaping up onto the banister. He burst into song as he went sliding down the banister, his voice carrying through the hall and into the dining room. "Figaro Figaro Figaro Figaro Figaro FIIIGGARRROOOOAAAA!"

Heads turned as the dining room doors flew open, and Kefka went sliding across the floor, laughing wildly and clutching his doll against his chest. "Figaroa!" he shouted, tears of mirth streaming down his face and smearing his eyeliner. "What a wonderful place! Why can't everywhere be like Figaroa?"

He was still giggling as the doctor steered him towards the table and pulled out a chair. "Calm down," Cid whispered in his ear, pushing him down into his seat. "I am so sorry," he said, turning and addressing the King, who had already taken his seat at the head of the table. "He gets this way sometimes. But I assure you he's perfectly fine. He's just a bit energetic is all."

"Yes, yes, of course," said Kefka, the feathers falling out of his hair as he smiled and nodded. "Never better! And what are we having for dinner? I'm starving." He placed his doll on the table, scooted his chair in, and began meticulously rearranging the feathers in his hair. King Stewart was just about to speak when suddenly Kefka cried out, "Good lord, I'm molting!"

Cid groaned and buried his face in his hands. This was going to be a long night.

"Hey, what's your problem?" asked Kefka, as he tickled the doctor with one of his feathers. "Don't be so disrespectful to the King. We're in a beautiful place, you know. All the lovely colors and fabrics, and banisters that are just perfect for sliding on."

Kefka quieted down once they brought the food out, and began piling vegetables and mashed potatoes onto his plate. His stomach had finally settled, thanks to the medicine Cid gave him, and he was eager to sample everything within reach. He put butter and jam on biscuits, nibbled on slices of fresh fruit, and almost stabbed one of the soldier's with his fork when he went to get the last biscuit on the plate.

The noise was enough to make Dr. Cid leap out of his chair when a shrill scream pierced the air, followed by a heavy thud as Kefka drove his fork into the table. He had been aiming for the soldier's hand, but missed by a few inches when the soldier managed to pull his hand away in the nick of time. At first they thought he was kidding, but the murderous look in his eyes said that this wasn't a joke, and that the next person who tried to swipe the last biscuit out from under him was going to get a knife in their belly.

After dinner came the discussion about money, politics, and other boring topics that left Kefka wanting to doze off in his seat. The conversation eventually turned to the creation of Magitek weapons, which drew Kefka's attention as he looked up from playing with his doll. He listened as Stewart and Gestahl discussed the possibility of Figaro helping them with the development of the weapons and machines.

Dr. Cid spoke up, requesting that some of Figaro's top engineers be sent to Vector, where they would work on the design and development of Magitek armor. The Magitek Research Facility had nearly doubled in size during the last few months, and they were in need of people who possessed the necessary skills needed to work with machines.

"And what of your Magitek Knight program?" asked Stewart, motioning with a nod of his head towards Kefka. "Is he a prime example of what these knights will be like once the program is up and running? Or is it still in the experimental stage?"

Gestahl leaned forward in his seat. "Palazzo is a fine knight and an excellent soldier. He has been trained by the best our military has to offer, and is set to graduate from the Imperial academy within the next three months. And while his behavior may seem a bit odd, I assure you that it has nothing to do with the infusion process. He is simply one of our more free spirited men."

There was loud snort followed by a series of subdued snickers and giggles. Gestahl looked over at Kefka, who was fighting a losing battle against the laughter bubbling up inside his chest.

God bless these idiots. Every last one of them. His mind was breaking under the weight of the disorganized chaos that filled his head, and all Gestahl could say was that he was "free spirited".

"There will be more knights once the process is perfected," Gestahl continued, ignoring Kefka as he fell across the table, his face buried in his arms as he positively howled with laughter. "We have considered creating a secondary branch of knights, rune knights, who have the ability to absorb offensive spells. This skill would prove invaluable in combat, enabling them to challenge all but the fiercest opponents without sustaining damage from magical attacks."

Stewart raised an eyebrow. "So the process is still in the developmental stage." He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "Have there been any complications arising from this process?"

"Such as?"

"Has he exhibited any sort of bizarre or unusual behavior?"

"None whatsoever."

This was perfect. Gestahl was giving him a free pass to do whatever he wanted. He could get away with murder, and the Emperor would still stand beside him and insist that nothing was wrong. Which was exactly how they planned it. If King Stewart refused to give them the tools and technology they needed, then he would have to be eliminated.

Kefka lifted his head, chuckling as he looked at Stewart. "Being artificially infused with magic hasn't created any sort of mental disturbances, if that's what you're implying. I am proud to serve the empire. I volunteered for this," he said, placing a hand on his chest. "And I do not regret my decision."

"Really?" Stewart doubted that they were telling the truth about Kefka's sanity. Anyone with eyes could see that there was something wrong with this man, and he didn't want to invest a great deal of time and money in a nation that spawned crazed knights who played with dolls. "I'll have to think things over before making my decision. And while I'm not entirely convinced that this is a worthwhile investment, I am open to further discussion in the morning."

"Thank you for your time." Gestahl nodded, then pushed out his chair and rose from his seat. He turned to the young man who was currently fingering the feathers in his hair. "Come, Palazzo. We have much to discuss."


	12. Long Live the King

_'Dear Terra,_

_You have no idea how much I love it here. The sun is always shining, and it's peaceful and warm. Sometimes I'll step outside before dawn to watch the sunrise, alone, sitting in the cool sand. Which is refreshing after a long, hot day. And when the sun rises, the clouds catch the colors and they turn such beautiful shades of purple, orange and red. It's like the sky is on fire in the morning._

_I'm not sure how long Emperor Gestahl is planning on staying here. He's spent the past five days negotiating with King Stewart, but the king still seems hesitant to give us the materials we need to further the Magitek program.'_

Kefka paused, stopping to tug at the bandages on his right hand. His burns were healing, and his hand was starting to itch. Dr. Cid told him to leave his hand alone so that it could heal properly, but the constant itching was getting on his nerves.

He unraveled the bandages on his hand, revealing layers of dry, peeling skin. The sides of his fingers were reddish brown, with dark splotches on the back of his hand. It was bad enough that he was mentally scarred from the experiments they performed on him, now he had physical scars to accompany the ones that were etched into the surface of his mind.

These days it felt like his blood was always burning, his flesh on fire with the essence of magic. He had difficulty remembering what it was like before his hands were burned, before he was consumed with hatred for all living things, and his memories were tainted with endless nightmares and waking dreams. He looked down at the letter he was writing, staring at the fresh ink in the moonlight, and for a moment he couldn't remember having written those words.

When he ventured outside at night, watching as the bright circle of the sun rose above the horizon, he would try to remember who he was before the experiments began. It felt like he was drifting into the endless void that filled the spaces between the stars, into the blue skies that stretched far beyond the dunes that surrounded the castle. Sometimes he didn't know who he was. He felt lost, so unsure of himself and his future. He questioned himself every minute of every day, struggling with what was right and what was wrong, until his inner turmoil caused him to seize up, paralyzing him with laughter until tears ran from the corners of his eyes.

Whatever happened would be decided by fate, by a power greater than his own. He longed to close his hand around that power, smothering it, hiding it, capturing the sacred essence of the heavens. Was it too much to hope for? Did he even have a choice? He looked up at the sky, scratching his hand as he gazed into the glittering bands of stars, then picked up his pen and continued writing.

_'The Emperor's patience is growing thin, and for the life of me I can't understand why it's taking King Stewart so long to make his decision. Any idiot with half a brain can see that they have nothing to lose and everything to gain from siding with us. We may have to resort to drastic measures. And good luck to those wretched brats he calls his children. The smaller one is too sickly and frail to accomplish much, and the other one is too busy chasing women's skirts to pay attention to what's going on around him. Filthy little pigs. I'd like to set this place on fire and burn it to the ground.'_

It was here that he stopped, crossing out the last few lines with rapid strokes of his pen. He couldn't let Terra see that. He didn't even know why he wrote it. He suddenly felt the urge to crumble the sheet of paper and set it on fire, hurling it into the darkened skies where its ashes would be whisked away on the desert winds.

_'What will become of the echoes and whispers that lie scattered across the desert sands? When frail words collapse, who is left to pick up the pieces? I hate to leave you with such a burden, but I know I will. It will be your job, once I have fallen to pieces in the arms of the gods. I could try to reassemble the splintered fragments of my mind, but my hands are already bleeding. Bleeding magic from my very core. It is poison. It is not pure like the magic you possess_ _. Let them taste the venom that has been festering in my blood.'_

Kefka looked out over the sands, his pen hovering inches above the sheet of paper. He knew what he had to do. The Emperor had made it very clear what was to be done if Stewart refused to give in to their demands. At best the King would give them some of the equipment they needed, and maybe one or two of his finest engineers. But it wasn't enough. And Kefka was to make sure that he suffered the consequences for daring to defy the empire.

\-------------------

There was still an hour or two before dawn when Kefka walked back to the castle, passing the guards as he made his way up the stone steps. It probably wasn't good that they saw him out here. But by now they were used to watching him venture out onto the sands at one and two in the morning.

He entered the castle, moving down the main hall and taking the first door on his left. He wanted them to think he was returning to his room in the guest quarters, when in reality he had other plans that night. He lingered by the stairs, leaning against the banister as he watched the pale moonlight cast shadows on the wall. When he felt fairly certain that an hour had passed, he descended the stairs and entered a small room at the bottom of the staircase.

He knew exactly where he was going. His late night wanderings had given him knowledge of almost every room and passageway in the castle. He knew there were guards on chocobos stationed outside the door, and that he needed something more than the cover of darkness in order to slip past them.

A wicked grin spread across his face, and he chuckled as he thought about what he was going to do. Kefka raised his hands, holding them out in front of him as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His muscles tensed, and he concentrated on channeling the energy he felt, letting it rise from his heated core and spread throughout his body. He exhaled slowly, his fingers tingling as a faint white light emanated from his hands. The light grew stronger, surrounding him with glowing crystals that sparkled like shards of obsidian and silver. And then suddenly he was gone, vanishing as the crystals dissolved in a flash of light.

It had taken him the better half of two months to master the spell known as Vanish, but this spell had one major flaw. His shadow was still visible, and if he were to speak, his voice could be heard by anyone within earshot. Keeping quiet was easy, so long as he wasn't overcome by a sudden fit of laughter. The real challenge was sneaking past the guards stationed near the entrance of King Stewart's private quarters.

Kefka opened the door, peering out into the darkness through the one inch gap between the door and the wall. The nearest guard was stationed to the east, just feet away from the door leading to the guest bedrooms. He was perched atop a chocobo, his head down and his eyes closed as a warm trickle of saliva ran from the corner of his mouth. The great bird lifted its head, then cooed softly and clicked its beak, causing the guard to wake up, his head jerking up as he snorted, rubbing sleep from his eyes while still holding onto the reigns with his other hand.

Figaro's finest, thought Kefka, frowning as he looked around for the other guard. The second guard was stationed near the entrance to King Stewart's private quarters, and was wide awake, unlike his companion who had spent most of the evening half asleep and half drunk from some party he attended before his shift began.

Kefka closed the door behind him and crept into the shadows beneath the battlements. He blended seamlessly into the darkness, grinning as the warm winds tugged at the feathers in his hair. If they caught him he had no weapons, no visible means of carrying out the assassination he and Gestahl had planned. Having magic gave him an advantage over these fools, because it gave him the ability to kill without using weapons that could easily be confiscated if he were captured by the guards. Magic was something they couldn't take from him, and it was his preferred weapon of choice anyway.

And then it happened. Kefka was almost past the first guard when the man on the chocobo began to sing. It was a horrible sound, his wretched caterwauling resembling the cries of an Esper they called Cait Sith.

"Oh I know a lady named Es-mer-elda. She got a pretty sister named Mag-del-ina. I'd take 'em to the creek, just to pinch those pretty cheeks, and say heeey-o! Pass me a biscuit and wine. Oh I know a girl named sa-sassy May. Her mother's a lady whose hair has turned grey. But it don't matter to me, as we go out to sea, and sink the ship between her - "

"Roland!" the second guard snapped, glaring at his companion. "Keep it down. I'm in no mood to listen to your nonsense."

The first guard hiccupped and grinned, leaning forward and slumping against the neck of his feathered steed. "Come on, Travis. You're just jealous 'cause there ain't no girly girls that like you."

The second guard rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter if they did. Prince Edgar would have them snatched up before you could even shake hands with them. And by the way, our young prince hasn't been teaching you his crude songs again, has he? Because that one sounded awfully familiar."

Roland nodded. "Yep."

"That's what I thought."

If this was an example of the type of people King Stewart had working for him, then perhaps they were better off staying here in Figaro. Then again they probably had their fair share of idiots in Vector. But at least they weren't perverse, drunken idiots, thought Kefka, as he sprinted across the sand. King Stewart would be dead before sunset, if Kefka had his way. And no brainless buffoon was going to stop him.

He reached the King's private quarters in a matter of seconds, taking cover in the shadows as he crept along the wall. He wasn't going in through the front door. That much was obvious. But in a place like Figaro where the nighttime temperatures barely made it down into the mid seventies, most people left their windows open in hopes of tempting a nonexistent breeze into their bedroom.

Kefka snuck in through the open window, landing with a soft thump on the floor. His cloak fell forward over his head, and after several seconds of muttered obscenities, he managed to disentangle himself from the bright red fabric. He sat there on the floor in a patch of moonlight, his shadow visible on the floor behind him, as he looked around for something he could use to carry out his mission. He then spied a bottle of wine sitting on the table next to an open book, and knew at once that it was exactly what he needed.

He picked up the bottle and removed the cork, then carefully tipped it onto its side, just enough so that the liquid was close to the mouth of the bottle. Kefka giggled and stuck his finger in the bottle, completely submerging it in the cool liquid. A sickly green light poured from the tip of his finger, filling the bottle with an ominous green glow. The light faded within a matter of seconds, leaving behind no visible traces of the poison that now tainted the bottle of wine.

The Emperor would be pleased with him for successfully carrying out his mission. He left the bottle on the table, still snickering as he made his way towards the window. He returned to his room in the guest quarters, then sat down at the table and resumed coloring as though nothing had happened. Only this time he used more red than he usually did. Red like fire, like garnets and blood. Every shade of red imaginable graced the pages of his coloring book. He then burst into spontaneous laughter, and the pencil he was holding snapped in two, splintering into several thin scraps of wood and colored lead.

He was enjoying himself, thinking about what would happen as the King died a slow, painful death. Unfortunately they would be long gone before Stewart passed away, and Kefka wanted to watch him writhe in agony, screaming as the toxic venom burned through every inch of his body, eating away at his flesh from the inside out. They were leaving in the morning, taking with them a pair of engineers and a small amount of equipment needed for the Magitek Research Facility. For although he had refused to form an alliance with them, King Stewart was willing to give them a small percentage of what they asked for.

Emperor Gestahl smiled, using his false gratitude as a means of covering the anger that was welling up inside. They would pay dearly for refusing to give in to his demands, starting with their precious king. He would take what was given and leave before anyone could realize what they'd done.

Everything was falling in place, just as the pieces of Kefka's mind started disintegrating. He continued writing to Terra during their return trip, with evidence of his insanity visible in his letters. Sometimes the letters she received were burnt along the edges, or covered in white splotches that looked like drops of paint. It would be some time before Terra figured out what these white spots were, and how they connected to Kefka's slow descent into madness.

\----------------

"Dammit!" Kefka slammed his fist on the counter, his fingers smeared with splotches of white makeup. He'd spent the last forty-five minutes in the bathroom layering makeup on his face, only to have it dry out and start flaking off every time he tried adding red over the white. It wasn't good quality makeup, and he needed something better if he was going to start painting himself with every color of the rainbow.

He picked up one of the bottles on the counter and frowned. Such cheap garbage. He'd stolen it from one of the female soldiers before leaving Vector and stashed it in his suitcase. Kefka flung the bottle out the window in a fit of rage. He would have to visit the market in South Figaro before returning to Albrook. They had a decent selection of merchandize, imported from various towns throughout the world. Surely he could find some decent makeup, and maybe some colorful feathers and beads to put in his hair.

He washed the makeup off, rubbing his face with a towel before applying a thick layer of eyeliner and red eye shadow. It wasn't much, but it would have to do until he got to the market. He then checked to make sure the makeup had been cleaned off his hands, and noticed the scars that laced his fingers on his right hand, marring his pale skin with lasting reminders of everything he'd been through.

In time he would acquire more scars, both mentally and physically, until his mind and body became a patchwork quilt of trial and error, success and failure, rage and hatred. It made him remember the beautiful fabric that adorned the walls in Figaro castle, and he wondered what it would be like to wear the colors of his past, boldly declaring that he had been through war, through a battlefield that existed only in his mind, and completed a quest which had changed him into something far greater than he had been at the start of his journey.

But the journey was far from being over. Kefka had no way of knowing how far he would have to fall before he could rise again. It was going to be a long way down in what felt like an endless descent through the bowels of Hell, hitting every rock and ledge along the way, and burning in every fire that was ever spawned from now until the end of time. How fitting, he thought, that a god should experience Hell before rising up to claim the world as his own. He could learn from this, and use his knowledge and experience to create his own unique brand of Hell on Earth. It would be nice, he thought, if someone else burned this time.

Kefka left the inn in South Figaro and headed towards the market. He stopped when he saw a boy selling newspapers on the street corner, and noticed the headline declaring that the King of Figaro was dead. Everywhere he went people were talking about the death of King Stewart, and a satisfied smirk spread across his face as he listened to their conversations. He was pleased with himself, his head held high with his cloak blowing in the wind as he walked down the street. This was magic. This was the ability to play god and choose who lived and who died. If he wanted he could set this city on fire and watch it burn, laughing as he sent them to join their precious King.

The thought was tempting, but he knew the empire had bigger plans for this miserable little dump. He continued on his way and entered the market, where he found a vendor that was selling a variety of imported perfume, dyes, fabric, ribbons, feathers, and beads. His eyes widened like a kid in a candy store when he saw bunches of chocobo feathers hanging from the wall in the back. The feathers came in every color of the rainbow, big, bright feathers that put the ones he'd been wearing to shame. He had to have them, as well as the lovely beads sitting in bins on the counter. They had brightly colored fabric too, but they were all solid colors, and Kefka wanted something more exotic and lively. He wanted patterns that mimicked those in his coloring books, not these boring, dull, lifeless things.

Kefka looked over the selection of makeup, asking about its quality before purchasing several bottles of red and white makeup, eyeliner, and a few extra bottles of nail polish. By the time he got back Terra wouldn't even recognize him. But he wasn't thinking about that. All he cared about was savoring the victory he'd had over the kingdom of Figaro.

\-----------------

Darkness had fallen over South Figaro, the sun setting behind rolling hills and fields of lavender. Kefka sat alone in his room, scribbling on a sheet of paper in front of the fireplace. The light from the flames danced across his face, his eyes shadowed from lack of sleep. Terra's doll sat beside him on floor, keeping him company throughout the long hours of the night. It was his only link to her, his one companion, reminding him of her gentle laughter and smiling face.

_'Terra,_

_I've been here too long. It was fun at first, but I need to see you again. I miss you. There will come a day when you think I don't care about you. But no matter what I do, and no matter what I tell you, do not forget that you are precious to me, and that you taught me everything I know. Our late night training sessions, those nights you kept me company when I couldn't sleep. I have difficulty remembering all the details, but I know you were there for me when no one else was._ _And yes, I suppose I could have told Cid about what was happening to me. You always told me I didn't have to be alone. I wasn't, though. Because I had you with me. And I am not about to waste my breath on idiots._

_Far too many voices. Just a number on a piece of paper. Charts and graphs and needles and machines and fire and death. I'm sorry. I'm rambling again, aren't I? This world could burn and it would mean nothing to me. I don't care anymore. This ceaseless noise. It's enough to drive someone insane. I've forgotten what it is I want, Terra. Most of it anyway. I know I was supposed to accomplish something while I'm here, and I think I have. But what does it mean in the long run? Does any of this really matter?_

_I'm beginning to see the futility of it all. Existence is meaningless. A king can be destroyed just as easily as a kingdom. And when one falls, so do the others. Like a domino effect. And one by one I watch them fall. These people are lying to themselves. This world is full of foolish dreamers, chasing hopes and fantasies that can end in the blink of an eye. And for what? What do they accomplish? What does it mean once they're gone?'_

Kefka paused, gazing into the crackling flames as they illuminated his face, highlighting lines that weren't there a month ago. He looked older than a man of twenty-five. Older, and more tired, than he should have been. He was fed up with the world in its entirety. The only thing that mattered now was Terra, and getting back to her as soon as possible, before he lost what little sanity he had left.

She was the only one who could comfort him when he awoke screaming in the middle of the night. Her presence helped quiet the voices in his head, and calmed his violent temper. As long as he was with her, he could maintain some semblance of sanity. Without her he was consumed by nightmares, by angry voices shouting at him during the dead of night. He didn't even realize that the voices he heard sometimes came from him, as he sat in bed with his knees drawn up to his chest, clutching his head and screaming at the voices to leave him alone.

He was fortunate that his room was located on the other side of the inn, preventing Cid from hearing him cursing and throwing things at the wall. Gestahl probably heard him, but the Emperor acted like he honestly didn't care, and smiled at Kefka when he greeted him in the morning, pretending like nothing was wrong.

But something was wrong. From the moment he set foot aboard the ship in Albrook, when he kissed Terra on the cheek and told her goodbye, something was very wrong indeed. Without her he couldn't relax, and was unable to sit still for more than ten minutes at a time. He kept fidgeting in his seat at the dinner table, stroking the feathers in his hair and drumming his fingers on the table. He felt as though he were on the verge of having a nervous breakdown, and was grateful for the fact that he had brought Terra's doll with him, because not only did it comfort him and help keep him calm, it gave him something to hold onto when his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

It was always like that, always disguising his symptoms with one thing or another. If he held the doll tight, squeezing it as his fingernails dug into the soft fabric of its body, it would stop his hands from shaking. If he kept moving, running and dancing and singing at the top of his voice, no one would notice the awful tremors in his feet and legs. It was always something, making him want to scream and set fire to anything that moved. And if they thought he was still smiling, they would never know.

He glanced down at the coloring book beside him on the floor, at the colored pencils scattered across the rug. Kefka stood up and walked into the bathroom. He locked the door behind him, opened the bottle of white makeup, and began slathering it on his face and hands. He rolled up his sleeves, painting his arms with the thick, white substance, giggling and chuckling as he watched it cover up his scars.

They wouldn't know. He was the perfect Magitek Knight. His skin was flawless, white, pure and clean. No one could say anything was wrong with him. He would reinvent himself, becoming like the creatures he saw in those prison cells. So what if he remade himself in their image? He was one of them now, wasn't he? He had their energy, their power and abilities. With the feathers of Quetzalli and the pale skin of Leviathan, their colors and markings, they were all a part of him.

He kept going until his face and neck was covered in a layer of white makeup, his hands just as pallid as his face. He used a brush to stain his blond eyebrows a deep shade of purple, then painted his lips so that they matched his eyebrows. But it wasn't enough. He'd seen the colorful lines and patterns that graced the Espers fur and flesh, and dipped a brush in the jar of red makeup, carefully drawing lines and spots around his eyes, over his eyebrows, and down the sides of his face.

Kefka laughed when he saw his reflection. He was pleased with what he saw, his painted lips parting in a wicked grin as he looked at himself in the mirrior and said, "Long live the king."


	13. Don't Leave Me

The sun was shining brightly as Terra ran down the street, accompanied by Leo as they made their way towards the dock. The dark skinned man laughed, running to keep up with her, then swooped down and pounced on her.

"Gotcha!"

Terra giggled and tried wriggling out of his grasp. She then felt her feet leave the ground as he lifted her up onto the air, and she laughed, cheering and waving her arms as Leo positioned her atop his shoulders.

"Can you see the dock from up there?" asked Leo. "I know you're excited about seeing Palazzo, but I can't have you running off and falling in the water."

"There!" Terra cried, pointing towards the dock. "I see it. It's Kefka!" Her face lit up as she caught sight of the ship in the distance. She'd been eagerly awaiting his return for weeks, and despite the uncomfortable feeling that settled in the pit of her stomach upon reading his letters, she had difficulty containing the excitement she felt now that he had finally returned to Albrook.

"Alright then. Let's get you down to the dock so you don't miss out on being there when he arrives."

Neither one of them would admit it, but they were slightly apprehensive about his return. They had each been given an explanation as to why Kefka attacked Leo, and they both came to their own conclusions regarding the how and why of what he did.

Terra thought it was an accident. She had a better understanding of what he was going through, and knew what it was like to lose control of her abilities when she was trying something new, or when she was upset and her magic overwhelmed her. However Leo was more cautious, and found it difficult to believe that Kefka hadn't specifically targeted him. He'd seen the way Kefka glared at him, his eyes shining with hatred and disgust. There was something about Leo's presence that irked him, and Kefka made no attempt to disguise his feelings for the younger man.

What bothered Terra was the letters he'd been sending her. She kept them to herself in a box under the bed, making sure no one knew that he'd been writing to her. And as the weeks slowly passed, she watched as they went from detailed descriptions of his travels to violent, incoherent rants about everything from the desert sand to why life had no meaning and everyone was going to die. By far the most disturbing letter she received had lines of text crisscrossing other paragraphs, making it difficult to read. His slanting cursive was sprawled from one end of the page to the other, with the words "blood" "death" and "hate" repeating several times. One paragraph was made up of nothing but the word "hate" written more than thirty times in quick succession.

She could understand his behavior, his inability to control his newfound abilities, but she didn't understand his letters. And no matter what they were told, nothing could have prepared them for the sight that meet their eyes the moment Kefka got off the ship.

He was dressed in his usual attire, the heels of his black boots clicking against the wooden floorboards as he walked across the dock. But halfway up is where his normalcy ended in a splash of white makeup that covered his hands, arms, face and neck. His eyes, now lined in black and red, were cold and glassy, and there was an even bigger bouquet of feathers tucked into his hair than when he left.

Terra gasped and her mouth fell open in shock. Leo stopped dead in his tracks, and Kefka turned to glare at him. The features of his face were distorted beneath the painted-on smile that spread from ear to ear. It was a strange, artificial expression that didn't match his eyes. Leo had just started to back away when suddenly Kefka's face split into a wide grin, and he actually smiled.

"Terra," he said, sounding almost relieved to see her. He held out his arms, and it was then that they noticed the yellow glove on his right hand. He was wearing it to cover the burn scars he aquired during his attack on Leo. The scars had a habit of itching when they were exposed to heat and cold, and he needed something more than makeup to protect his scarred flesh. "Come here, Terra. It's been too long, my pretty little girl."

He expected her to come running into his arms, but she was still, staring at him and his painted face, at the multitude of dyed feathers in his hair. She didn't know what to make of his altered appearance, and neither did Leo, judging by the look on his face.

Kefka's smile faded when he saw Terra standing motionless on the dock. He looked at Leo, and felt a surge of hatred pulsing in his veins. "You," he snapped. "What have you done to her? She wasn't like this when I left."

Leo opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He opened and closed his mouth several times, looking very much like a dumbfounded guppy. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, after several seconds of struggling to find his voice. "I haven't done anything to her, and you know that. All I did was watch her while you were away."

By now Terra had gotten over her shock at seeing Kefka's coloful makeup and feathers, and had begun to move towards him, slowly at first, as she continued to stare at the lines and dots on his face.

The clownish mage seized her by the wrist, and she shrieked as he drug her across the dock. "Come here," he snarled, placing his arm around her in what could only be described as a protective gesture. His muscles tensed, and the air around him shimmered with undulating waves of rippling heat.

Did they think he was stupid? Did they think he didn't see what was going on? They were trying to take her away from him. Yes, yes they were. They wanted to brainwash her into liking Leo more than she did him. Leo, this pathetic little worm, didn't deserve her affection. He didn't have magic. He was nothing. Just another piece of filth stuck to the bottom of his boots. He could easily reach out and snap his neck. Just one quick twist and it would all be over.

"Palazzo."

Kefka's head whipped around as he felt Gestahl tap him on the shoulder.

The Emperor motioned with his hand for Kefka to follow him. "Come."

"Yes, sir." Kefka shot Leo one last dirty look before continuing on his way. He would deal with him later, once he found a secluded spot where no one could hear this miserable little wretch scream.

\-------------

Terra sat on the bed, watching as Kefka unpacked his belongings. She was silent for several minutes, not knowing what to say in the presence of this aggravated clown who was still ranting about everything that happened in Figaro. She thought people were supposed to come back from vacations feeling refreshed, but being away from Vector had only succeeded in souring his mood.

He opened the dresser drawer, shoving clothes inside then slamming it shut, and all while muttering to himself about how long it took to clean the sand off his boots. Meanwhile Terra picked up one of the coloring books that had fallen out of his suitcase and onto the floor. She flipped through the pages, admiring the pictures he finished while he was away. She was surprised to see that he had finished the entire book, filling the pages with a magnificent display of colors. It was beautiful to look at, though she wasn't sure how he had managed to do this, seeing as how it took him hours to fill in all the minute circles, spirals and intricate designs on a single page. The only way he could have done this was if he stayed up all night, which was possible, considering the nightmares that plagued him on a regular basis.

She set the coloring book aside when she was finished looking at it, then poked around in his suitcase until she found another one. The second book she found wasn't complete, and had pages missing where they'd been torn out in a fit of rage. Some pages had been colored with nothing but shades of red, while others had scorch marks and white splotches on the pages. They reminded her of the letters he sent, their corners burnt where the heat emanating from his hands had burned holes in the paper.

"Admiring my artwork?"

Terra looked up and saw Kefka standing with his hands on his hips. "What happened to these pages?" she asked, pointing at one of the burnt pieces of paper.

"That, my dear Terra, is what I like to call a happy accident. Sometimes I get so carried away when I'm coloring that I forget to keep my magic in check. It can get the better of me, you know. And I'm quite certain there will be more happy accidents in the future." He then snatched the book out of her hands, and placed it on the bookshelf with the rest of his coloring books and art supplies.

He seemed quite interested in art these days, and Terra reasoned that this was why he started wearing makeup, beads and colorful feathers in his hair. He was turning himself into a work of art, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, it was just going to take some getting used to. Although she had to admit she was rather fond of the feathers and beads in his hair. It wasn't long until she joined him at the kitchen table, the two of them sitting side by side as they worked on crafting new accessories for his hair.

There were jars of beads and bunches of feathers that covered every inch of the table. The beads came in every color, shape and size imaginable, and when Terra wasn't helping him string beads onto multicolored strands of thread, or attaching feathers to silver hair clips, she was using them to make necklaces and bracelets for herself.

Kefka smiled, watching her show off the bracelet she made from red, heart shaped beads. He was truly happy when he was with her, and for a while the voices stopped tormenting him, and he was calm, smiling and laughing like nothing had changed. He started making matching bracelets so he and Terra could wear the same kind of jewelry, and tucked bright red feathers in her hair. She was the perfect little doll, so obedient and sweet, so loving and innocent. To her it was nothing more than playing dress up. But Kefka saw things differently. She belonged to him, and he was going to make sure everyone knew it.

\---------------

It had now been ten days since Kefka returned from Figaro. And while the kingdom of Figaro was mourning the death of their King, a celebration was being held in honor of Kefka's early graduation from the Imperial academy.

Kefka walked into the great hall with his head held high, his brightly colored feathers and beads swaying in time with the rhythm of his footsteps. Everywhere he looked there were banners bearing the Gestahlian emblem, as well as a number of festive decorations strung up throughout the room. Everything that was being done today, from the gathering of his fellow soldiers who were there to celebrate his graduation, to the banquest table lined with food, made for a spectacular celebration, and all because Gestahl had pushed up the date of his graduation as a reward for murdering King Stewart.

Kefka loved the attention he was getting, and was quite pleased with the number of people who showed up for his graduation. Though there were some who pointed and whispered behind his back, Kefka chose to ignore them in favor of fawning over Terra, who had been dressed in the finest clothes money could buy, and was wearing almost as much makeup, feathers and beads as he was.

Before the celebration began, Kefka spent over an hour fixing her hair, painting her nails, and applying lipstick, mascara and eye shadow. He tucked a few more feathers in her hair, and made her wear a plush, red velvet dress. By the time he was finished with her they looked like brother and sister, wearing the same color clothing and accessories. He did this to show that she was his, then purposely brought her out and put her on display for all the world to see.

The soldiers thought it strange that he would dress her in such lavish clothes and makeup, then parade her around like some sort of dog on a leash. Terra didn't seem to mind, though, and was enjoying herself at Kefka's graduation party. The clownish mage kept feeding her cupcakes and cookies from the banquet table, while repeatedly telling everyone who would listen about how much time he spent making her clothes. Everything was going fine until Kefka looked down and realized that Terra was no longer standing beside him.

"Terra!" he screeched in his high-pitched voice. "Where is she? Where did she go?" Panic was building in his chest, his heart racing as he frantically searched for the little girl, looking under tables and chairs and calling her name. He couldn't lose her, not now, not after he'd worked so hard to graduate and was beginning his rise to power. She was everything to him, she was the thread that tied him to his sanity, to the memories of who he was before the infusions began. Losing her meant losing everything, and he refused to let that happen.

He found her sitting on one of the chairs that lined the back of the room, laughing and swinging her feet as she listened to the little blond girl in the chair beside her. That one, what did they call her? Celes? And wasn't Celes usually accompanied by -

"Leo."

The word slid from his lips like venom dripping from an open wound. His fingernails bit into the palms of his hands, his eyes gleaming with hatred and malice.

"Terra!" he shouted, causing half the room to turn and stare at him. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Get over here right now!"

"But Kefka," Terra began, turning in her seat as Celes' mouth dropped open at the sight of the clownish mage. "I was only talking to Celes. I wanted to show her all the pretty stuff you made me, like my dress and - " She didn't get a chance to finish her sentence. Before she knew what was happening, Kefka grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out of her seat. He then proceeded to drag her out of the room, down a flight of stairs, and around the corner, making sure they were a safe distance from the party before stopping.

Terra was struggling to free herself, twisting and whining as his nails dug into her soft flesh. He had neglected to trim his fingernails while he was away in Figaro, and they had grown long and sharp like the talons of some great bird.

Kefka knelt down in front of her so he was at eye level with the child. "Terra," he snapped, raising a hand and slapping her across the face. "Listen to me, dammit! Don't you ever do that to me again. Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?"

The little girl screamed, and Kefka tightened his hold on her wrist, squeezing her hard enough to leave a bruise on her delicate skin.

"Terra," he snarled, his hot breath on her face as he leaned over her, his eyes burning with such intense anger that Terra felt certain she was going to spontaneously combust if he kept looking at her like that. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. I had no idea where you were. And then, of all people, I find you sitting with Leo and the little blond girl."

"Celes is my friend!" Terra cried, tears streaming down her face in muddled streaks of red and black. "I just wanted to play with her."

"And you couldn't tell me where you were going first?"

Terra sniffed, her bottom lip quivering as he reached into his pocket and took out a handkerchief. He dabbed at her face with the paisley strip of fabric, not bothering to avoid the red, stinging handprint on her cheek as he cleaned the makeup off. The cloth scraped across her cheek, and Terra whimpered and turned her head the other way.

"Don't!" she whined, only to have Kefka sink his nails into her skin as he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

"Hold still!" he barked, and continued wiping makeup off her face. "Look at this mess. I spent all day making you look nice, and now you've gone and ruined all my hard work. And as for Celes, you had plenty of time to play with her while I was away. I thought you'd be more interested in spending time with me now that I'm home, but apparently I don't mean as much to you as your new little friend."

"That isn't true!"

"Then why didn't you tell me where you were going? Why didn't you say something before you ran off and left me worrying about what had happened to you?"

"I - I didn't remember... I mean, I didn't think I had to... She was just sitting there on the other side of the room, and - "

Kefka put his hands on her shoulders, falling to his knees as he appeared to collapse in slow motion. "Terra." There was no anger in his voice when he said her name. He was pleading with her, begging her in his most sincere tone when he spoke her name, his hands trembling and his eyes wide with fright. "You can't...you can't just leave me like that. You know how I get." He motioned with one hand towards his head, making vague gestures as he struggled to find the words he needed to get his point across. "I hear things...inside. You're the only one who can make it stop."

Terra was silent. She remembered the letters he sent, how they started off normal then descended into hate filled rants and conversations with the voices in his head. He wasn't aware of himself or what he was putting in those letters. Half the time he didn't even remember sending them.

"You understand, don't you?" A nervous chuckle escaped his lips.

"I understand." She nodded, keeping her head down as she spoke. "I'm sorry, Kefka."

His shoulders sunk as his body visibly relaxed, and he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. "It's alright, dear. As long as you're here everything is going to be alright." Kefka reached behind her and started stroking her hair. "My pretty little doll. You're safe with me. And I won't ever let anything happen to you."


	14. Roses

Kefka's mental health continued to deteriorate as the months slowly passed. He started having mood swings and laughing at inappropriate moments. He took pleasure in death and destruction, and started spending more and more time in the Magitek Research Facility as they worked to produce the first ever Magitek armor and weapons. Kefka was particularly fond of a device similar to a flamethrower that they had mounted on one of the suits of armor. This device was fueled by fire element magic taken from Ifrit, and was capable of launching flames over twenty feet in the air. The only problem was that the device had a tendency to backfire, sending sparks and burning embers back at the person who was piloting the armor.

But my, what a charming little weapon it would be once it was perfected. It got him thinking about creating his own magical flamethrower, and before long he started experimenting with the fire spells he'd learned. He would rub his hands together to build up the energy in his palms, then snap his fingers to create a small, bluish flame that sprang to life in the palm of his hand. He then cupped his hands together and blew on the flame, creating a steady stream of fire.

Using this technique Kefka developed a way to breathe fire, which thrilled him to no end and scared the living daylights out of his fellow soldiers. But like the weapon mounted on the suit of armor, the spell needed some work, and the first few times he cast it it came out all wrong, like a burst of flames rather than a steady stream, which flew outwards in all directions and singed the ends of his hair.

"Kefka, please, you're going to hurt someone if you keep that up," said Cid, ducking as a series of bright blue flames exploded from Kefka's hands.

"That's the point, though, isn't it, Cid?" said Kefka, laughing at the thought of causing bodily harm to another human being.

"Yes, but I'd rather it wasn't me or one of my assistants." He then returned to his work, with Kefka following close behind as he inspected the machines on the conveyor belt.

"When are we going to try out one of these machines?" asked Kefka. "All this fire power and it's just sitting there going to waste. Much like my own magic that I haven't been allowed to use in days," he added, startling the doctor as he popped up in front of him.

"Kefka!" Cid held his chest, taking a few deep breaths as he tried to calm himself. Kefka laughed at his apparent distress, then turned around and went running across the catwalk, his cloak flying out behind him as he ran.

He stopped when he reached a large machine that was assembling parts and laying them out in rows on a conveyor belt. Kefka stood back and watched, fascinated by the movements of the mechanical arms, the spinning gears and glowing sparks that flew when bits of metal were welded together.

"You know what that is, don't you?" asked Kefka, grinning as he looked back at Cid. "Can you hear it?" He cupped his left ear, his eyes fixated on the spinning gears and pieces of metal as they moved along the conveyor belt. "It's music. It's a symphony of destruction."

He could easily imagine himself in one of these machines, laughing as they spewed flames onto the streets of Vector, with everyone running, screaming, fleeing for their lives. Such wonderful cries of agony and despair, merging with the whirring gears and clanging metal, fueling his madness and driving him over the edge.

"You are going to let me try one of these things once they're finished, aren't you?" Kefka took a step back, his fingers gliding over the cold steel as he caressed the skeletal frame that formed the half completed suit of armor. The look in his eyes was frightening. It was a look of longing, of pure ecstasy and lust, a lust for power, for destruction, death, chaos and murder.

It was only a matter of time before Kefka either killed or seriously injured someone. He didn't even try hiding his insanity anymore, not with Gestahl patting him on the back and encouraging him every time he threw another temper tantrum. And no matter how many times Cid warned him that Kefka was heading for a nervous breakdown, Gestahl kept ignoring him, saying that everything was fine, and that he saw no cause for concern.

Dr. Cid sighed heavily and looked up from his clipboard. "I can't say for certain whether or not the Emperor will allow you to try out one of the test models. You're too important to him, and I think he'd rather have someone else experiment with them until they're safe enough for you to take out in the field."

"Right right, of course." Kefka nodded, his hands behind his back as he walked towards the doctor. "I understand." He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. "Sure we can't shove Leo in one of those things?"

"Kefka..."

"Because it would be hilarious if it blew up in his face."

"Now see, that is why we can't have you using one of these machines until they're proven safe. You're too valuable to be used as a test pilot for the armor."

"You didn't think anything of using me as your personal guinea pig for these experiments." Kefka motioned towards one of the unfinished suits of armor. "How is this any different?"

He had a good point. The empire had been experimenting on him for a year and a half, and he saw no reason why he shouldn't be allowed to try out their latest toy, because that's exactly what it was, a plaything for his amusement.

"Things are different now, Kefka. The Emperor wants to wait until you've completed your first round of blood transfusions before deciding whether or not to send you on another mission. I'm sorry, but it'll have to wait."

Kefka frowned, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the doctor. "Of course, Cid. Because it makes so much sense to wait until I'm sick as a fucking animal and vomiting over the side of that accursed scrap heap. Yes, that would be the perfect time to let me take it for a test drive!" He turned on heel and marched off down the stairs, muttering something about how much he hated the idiots that ran this place.

Dr. Cid followed him down the stairs, running to keep up with him as he turned the corner in a flurry of colorful feathers and flowing silk. He caught up with him just as he rounded the corner and was about to head down the next flight of stairs. He tucked his clipboard under his arm, and pressed his palm against the wall, his arm outstretched, blocking Kefka's path down the stairs. "Look, Kefka, I know you're eager to try the new equipment, but you're about to start the next phase of the infusion process. If it's anything like last time you'll probably be bedridden for the next couple of weeks. And we can't have you using one of those things while you're sick."

There was a brief pause as Kefka leaned in close, his face shadowed by the overhanging steel pipes and metal beams. "Looks like the joke's on you, Cid," he hissed in a menacing tone. "Because I haven't been well for a very long time." He then pushed past the doctor and continued down the flight of stairs.

\----------------

The door slammed behind him as he made his way into the lower halls of the Magitek Research Facility. There he saw row after row of glass tanks, some with Espers already suspended in shimmering green fluid. Their eyes were closed, their limbs twitching from time to time, with tubes protruding from their arms and wires attached to various points on their bodies.

Kefka watched as Cid's assistants brought in an Esper that resembled a cross between a rabbit and a fox. It had dark, turquoise fur that formed a thick mane at the back of its head, and ears that were almost as long as its body. It appeared to be unconscious, and was lying on a gurney as they wheeled it into the room. But the minute they tried placing it in the holding tank it suddenly came alive, and started screaming and thrashing, swinging its heavy tail and striking one of the assistants in the head. The blow was enough to bring the man to his knees, rendering him unconscious as he fell to the floor beside the howling, screeching animal.

This being was known as Carbuncle. It had eyes that glowed with crimson flames, matching the color of the gemstone embedded in its forehead. Its shining fur glistened like dewdrops in the moonlight, the light growing brighter as it leapt from the arms of its captors and launched itself across the room. It zigzagged between their legs, running on all fours and diving beneath the table. When the assistants went to catch it, the Esper fluffed up its fur, opened its mouth, and let out a tremendous screech not unlike that of a screaming rabbit.

It was a terrible sound, an unearthly howl that reverberated off the steel walls. The instant the sound reached Kefka's ears he screamed, clutching his head as a blinding pain exploded at the base of his skull. This was the same kind of noise he had to deal with on a daily basis, only now it was all around him, the pulsing sound waves tearing at the very fabric of his mind.

"Stop it!" he shouted. "Stop, damn you! Why won't you be quiet?!"

The lights began to flicker as electricity built inside his body, and Carbuncle turned on him, baring its fangs and howling with rage. It charged at Kefka, only to be struck with a bolt of lightning as it soared through the air.

Lightning sprang from his fingertips, and Kefka started laughing as the Esper jerked and twitched on the floor, its body contorting in agony as foam dribbled from its jaws. He'd had it with these screeching, screaming abominations. If he couldn't silence the noise in his head, then he would settle for silencing the creatures themselves. Anything to end the accursed noise that haunted him night and day. It had to stop. It had to. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Kefka, stop! That's enough!"

Another voice broke through the noise in his mind, and he turned to see one of the assistants holding his arm, desperately trying to pull him away from the Esper.

"Don't touch me!" Kefka screamed, sparks flying as he whirled around let fly with another bolt of lightning, this one aimed at the assistant who had pulled him off the Esper. The attack missed, and shattered one of the glass vessels, sending up a shower of golden sparks and broken glass.

His chest heaving, Kefka stopped suddenly and glanced around the room. For a moment he forgot where he was, and then he saw the Esper lying motionless on the ground, its pink tongue hanging limply from the corner of its mouth. His lip curled in disgust, and Kefka kicked the fallen Esper, sending it rolling across the floor.

"You stupid, filthy, disgusting animal!" he spat in contempt. "Maybe now I can finally get some peace and quiet."

\---------------

While Kefka was in the lower halls of the research facility, Dr. Cid had returned to his greenhouse, unaware of the fact that the Emperor's precious mage had just attacked one of the Espers. He needed a break from the constant strain of dealing with Kefka on a daily basis. And unlike Kefka who sought release through violence, Cid often retreated to the sanctity of his garden to find peace and relaxation, losing himself within the myriad of colorful flowers that adorned the shelves, floors and tables in his greenhouse.

For seventeen years Cid cultivated a wide range of flowering plants and trees, growing everything from amaryllis, calla lilies and jasmine to lilac, lavender, daffodils, moonflowers and orchids. But the one flower he loved above all others was the rose. He had several species of roses in his greenhouse, including a rare breed found only in remote village of Thamasa.

The Thamasian rose was the prize of his collection. It had bright red petals and blossoms that were nearly as big as dinner plates. No one knew why this single species of rose grew so large, or why its petals shone like rubies in the sunlight. Some people speculated that there was something in the soil, or perhaps the water in Thamasa was responsible for creating such gorgeous flowers.

He was in the process of watering his roses when he heard the door close behind him, and looked up to see Celes enter the greenhouse. Her eyes widened as she looked up at the lilac tree that stood inside the door, and a smile spread across the doctor's face as he watched her admiring his flowers.

Celes had never been inside the greenhouse before, and was in awe of the beautiful collection of flowers. She was surrounded by colorful blossoms that came in every size and shape, from overhanging clusters of fragrant lilac to bunches of daffodils, daisies and jasmine. Butterflies that had been born and raised inside the greenhouse flitted from flower to flower, pausing to sip nectar from the delicate blossoms, their wings fanned out behind them as they basked in the warm glow of the midmorning sun.

"So? What do you think?" asked Cid, still smiling as he watched her lean over and smell the large, white flowers that adorned a leafy bouquet of trailing vines.

"It's beautiful," said Celes. She walked over to a table full of roses. There were yellow roses with petals the color of sun ripened wheat, and roses with white petals tipped in pink. Some had petals that were creamy yellow on the outside with garnet hues on the inside, while others came in shades of soft peach and pale lavender. But the ones that stood out from all the rest were the Thamasian roses.

Celes stood in front of the table, gazing in wonder at the magnificent blooms. A butterfly that was sipping nectar from one of the flowers flew into the air, its colorful wings shining in the sunlight, before landing on the tip of Celes' nose. The little girl went cross-eyed trying to see the butterfly, and Cid laughed, watching as the insect took flight and landed in a pot of daffodils.

"What brings you to my little corner of the world?" asked Cid. He set his watering can aside, and leaned his back against the table. "I don't think I've seen you here before."

"Leo had to go to work," Celes explained, never taking her eyes off the roses while she spoke. "He saw you leaving for the greenhouse and sent me to stay with you for a while." She paused, pointing to the red roses on the shelf. "What kind of flower is that?"

"That is a Thamasian rose. It's a very special flower that only grows in Thamasa. I managed to get my hands on them a couple years ago. Unfortunately, all but one of the roses died. I tried starting new plants from clippings, but my efforts to grow more of them have failed, and one by ones the roses slowly died, withering away as their petals turned to dust." He scratched his head, looking at the red roses and their softly shimmering petals. "It's strange. I've never seen anything like it before. First the light goes out of them, then they gradually lose the little flecks of gold on their petals and crumble to dust. It happens very quickly, sometimes in a matter of days."

"And you don't know what causes it?"

"No, I don't. It's almost like they lose the will to live once they're taken out of Thamasa."

Celes stood on tiptoe to get a better look at the rose, and noticed minute flecks of amber light on its petals, making the plant look like it had been dusted with a thin layer of glitter. The tiny flecks of light shimmered like waves of liquid gold, and when the sun set beyond the horizon, the rose glowed in the dark, fueled by the magic it absorbed through its roots, for even the soil in Thamasa contained trace amounts of magic.

"It's really pretty," said Celes. "I wonder what makes it glow." Her face suddenly lit up, and she looked at him and said, "Maybe its a magic flower!"

The doctor chuckled, amused by her choice of words. "You think so?"

"Mm-hmm." Celes nodded. "I believe in magic. I know some people don't believe it's real, but I do. And I didn't have to see that man with the feathers use it to know that it's real."

"The man with the feathers?" This was too much, and Cid started laughing. "You mean Kefka?"

Celes shrugged. "I don't remember his name. All I know is that I was right. Magic is real, just like Leo said. Sometimes he tells me stories about this time when there was a war, and all these magic animals and people fought each other and lots of people died. He says people need to remember what happened so it doesn't happen again."

The laughter died in Cid's throat, and he nervously glanced around the room for something he could use to change the subject.

"Leo doesn't like magic," Celes continued. "He says it breeds nothing but hatred and violence, and that real men can fight with honor and dignity without using magic. But I disagree," she added thoughtfully, as she admired the roses on the shelf. She reached out and touched one of the delicate blossoms, gently stroking the soft, shining petals. "If magic can make something this beautiful, then it can't be all bad, right?"

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer, but Cid was at a loss for words. He'd watched Kefka going downhill for over a year, and all the while Emperor Gestahl kept pushing for more infusions, completely ignoring the fact that his prized mage now had more feathers in his hair than a flock of chocobos. If this was an example of what magic did to someone, then it was no wonder Leo was against the idea of infusing people with magic. Though he had to admit that Celes had a point. This rose was a thing of beauty, even though Kefka and his many layers of clown makeup was not.

It made him wonder how two magical entities could be so different from each other. This rose was like Terra Branford. It grew and flourished and was a marvelous wonder of nature. Kefka, on the other hand, had slowly begun to wither and decay, his mind rotting from the excessive amount of magic he'd been infused with. Why were they so different? Was the rose magical? And if so, why? How? What could he learn from it?

"I don't know," he said at length. "I don't even know if the flower is magical."

"It is," said Celes in a matter of fact tone. She sounded so confident, so sure of herself when she spoke. She wasn't shy and quiet like Terra, and had no problem speaking her mind, telling people what she thought without hesitation.

Celes turned and started walking around the greenhouse, looking at all the beautiful flowers and lush green foliage. Every inch of the building was filled from top to bottom with flowers in every shape, size and color. But there was one place along the northern wall that wasn't overflowing with gorgeous blossoms like the rest of the greenhouse. She was curious as to why this area was bare, and went over to investigate the large, empty space in the back of the building. What she found was a table lined with small flower pots. The flowers contained within these pots were very small. They were seedlings, young roses just beginning to grow and bloom. And alongside each rose was a tiny wooden cross, each one bearing the name of an Esper that had died during Cid's experiments.

This was Dr. Cid's private cemetery, a place to remember the lives that had been lost during the course of his experiments. Because despite what most people thought, Cid cared deeply for each and every one of these magical creatures. It pained him to watch them suffer until their bodies gave out and they wasted away to nothing. They were dead because of him, because of what the empire had forced him to do. And although he had insisted that no Espers were killed to further his research, Emperor Gestahl just laughed in his face, and ordered him to slaughter nearly half a dozen of them for testing.

"Mister Cid." Celes' eyes were wide as she looked up at him, her voice no more than a hushed whisper. "Did someone die?"

The doctor sighed, wishing very much that she hadn't seen his private cemetery that he made in memory of the Espers who'd lost their lives. "Yes, dear," he said, his quiet voice and somber tone revealing how much he truly cared for these creatures. "There have been casualties during the course of my work. I tried keeping them alive as long as I possibly could, but with Emperor Gesthal ordering more and more tests on a daily basis..." His voice trailed off, and he gazed at the roses in silence, wondering how many humans and Espers would have to die before Emperor Gestahl was satisfied.

"I'm sorry," Celes apologized. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

"It's alright, dear. I know you didn't mean it." He forced a smile on his face, pretending that everything was fine, while somewhere in the lower halls his assistants were busy scraping the half-dead remains of an unconscious Esper off the floor. And all the while Kefka continued to scream and rant, claiming that he could still hear that blasted creature's voice even though it hadn't moved or made a sound for the last twenty minutes.

The little girl was quiet, gazing down at the floor in an effort to avoid eye contact with him. She then lifted her head, her blond hair falling forward into her face, and said in a small, worried voice, "Do you know where Terra is? I havent seen her for a long time. She doesn't come over and play with me like she used to, and so I was sort of wondering if you'd seen her lately."

"You haven't seen her?"

Celes shook her head. "No, I haven't. Not since the graduation party." She glanced at the crosses in the flower pots, thinking that maybe something had happened to her friend.

She didn't know much about what went on in the laboratory, or that Kefka had forbidden Terra from telling anyone about the experiments or the problems he was having. What she did know was that sometimes Terra accompanied Kefka to the lab, and that they sometimes performed tests on her. Terra wasn't supposed to tell Celes about that either, but one day while they were playing Celes noticed a bruise on her arm from where Cid had stuck her with a needle, and Terra couldn't think of an excuse to hide what had happened to her.

"It's not so bad," Terra said, shying away from the little girl as Celes grabbed her arm so she could get a closer look at the bruise. "They don't perform tests on me as often as they used to."

What followed was a barrage of questions from the blond girl, to which Terra responded by saying that she wasn't allowed to tell her what went on in the lab. And no matter how many times Celes tried prodding her for information, Terra refused to tell her anything, which only made Celes even more curious about what they were doing with her.

Dr. Cid thought about what she said, and realized that he hadn't seen Kefka taking Terra for walks as often as he used to. If they were seen together outside the palace, it was always after dark when most of the city was asleep. The only time he saw them during the day was when Kefka had to bring her in for testing. And unless you were awake at eleven o' clock at night, and happened to be looking out the window as they walked past under the cover of darkness, you wouldn't know that either one of them existed.

"Now that you mention it, I don't think I've seen her for quite some time. But there's no need to worry about her, Celes. Kefka is very busy. He probably doesn't have time to bring her over for a visit."

If only that were true, and Kefka's growing paranoia wasn't the reason behind her sudden disappearance. He feared more than anything else that he was going to lose her, and he certainly didn't want her anywhere near that goody two shoes Leo. He couldn't stand being in that man's presence, feeling like the pure, perfect little walls were closing in on him every time he got within five feet


	15. Collapse From Within

The moon was shining overhead, rising above the towering buildings and bathing the earth in its gentle glow. He watched the buildings dissolve into darkness, becoming tall, ominous silhouettes against the blood red skies, framing the horizon with pillars and spires, rising smoke and banners fluttering on the wind. For the last three hours he'd done nothing but sit at the window, watching as the sun sank below the horizon and night fell over Vector.

"Terra," he softly murmured, turning and glancing over his shoulder at the young girl sitting on the couch. The room was dark, the only light coming from the moon as it spilled its silver light across the floor. "Come here a moment," he whispered. "I want to speak with you."

Terra stood up and walked over to the window where Kefka had spent most of the day staring off into space, watching as the skies grew dark and the last rays of sunlight slowly faded into the twilight of dusk. Sometimes she would sit beside him, and they would watch the sunset together in silence, for Kefka rarely spoke when he was having one of his moments where he slipped into the darker recesses of his mind, retreating from the rest of the world as he gazed at the clouds and listened to the voices whispering in his head.

In a way he reminded her of the sunset, the shades of crimson and gold that framed his face, his cloak flowing like liquid amber past his waist, traveling downwards where it pooled at his feet. The light had left his eyes, leaving them hollow and cold, much like the skies at dusk before the starts came out to light the heavens above.

He wasn't himself anymore, and Terra was beginning to wonder if he would ever be the same person who rescued her moogle from the storm. It was like he was sinking into his own private darkness, a world that only he knew, far away from warm glow of the sun, from the fields they used to visit in summer when the flowers were in bloom.

She stood beside him in the moonlight, waiting for him to speak. It felt like she stood there for hours, the uncomfortable silence lingering between them, before he finally decided to speak.

"Do you still have the letters I sent you?"

Terra nodded. "Yes, I do."

"Good. I want you to hold on to those. I'm sure they will be quite valuable in years to come."

More silence. Kefka shifted slightly in his seat, still staring out the window as the stars became visible in the night sky.

"I'm starting the next round of infusions tomorrow," he said, speaking more to himself than to anyone in the room. "This time they're giving me blood transfusions instead of the weekly injections I've been having. He says he's taking precautions in case something goes wrong. Something... Don't even know where I am anymore..."

He gripped the armrests of the chair, his hands shaking as his nails dug into the plush material. "Idiots!" The word exploded from his lips like a sneeze, startling the half-Esper girl as she leapt nearly a foot in the air. "I hate them! I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate them!"

The word rolled off his tongue in rapid succession. It was something Terra had never seen him do before, his words leaving him in such a rush that he was able to spout the same word multiple times in a matter of seconds. She blinked and stared at him in stunned disbelief as thin wisps of smoke rose into the air, and suddenly she realized that his fingers were burning holes in the fabric of the chair.

He was a monster, bathed in shadow and painted with the colors of the dying sun. And yet Terra was not afraid of him. She knew him better than anyone else did. And even though she didn't understand everything that was happening in his head, she knew more about his struggles than Dr. Cid. She knew how to comfort him, how to calm him down when he was ranging out of control. She didn't need machines to tell her when something was wrong, and she didn't need them to tell her how to make things right.

Perhaps it was the connection that had formed between them the night he had his first seizure, when the lights went out in Vector, and a power unlike anything else she had ever felt before seized control of her mind and body, changing her into a being of pure white light. Her body glowed with an inner light that no one else could see. Kefka was aware of her hidden strength, a power not unlike his own now that he had been infused with magic. It was enough to create an invisible bond, linking them together through the magic they possessed.

Terra placed her hand over his, her small fingers wrapping around the glove that covered his right hand. Slowly he turned, his faded blue eyes meeting her green eyes in the dark. He felt a spark of magic beneath his skin, like a jolt of static electricity pulling him away from the chaos that clouded his mind. The energy was faint, no more than the single pulse of electricity that flared to life between the neurons in his brain. But it was enough to distract him and focus his attention elsewhere.

"Kefka." Her voice was quivering, trembling with fear as she spoke. "Kefka, please. Stop talking like that. You're scaring me."

Her eyes were shining with tears as she looked up at him. She wasn't afraid of him, but she was scared that she might lose him, that one day he might stray beyond her reach, and she wouldn't be able to pull him back. But right now, in this moment forever suspended in time, their bond was strong, seemingly unbreakable, as he reached down and picked her up.

He placed her on his lap, grunting with exertion as he lifted her into the air. "I think you might be getting too big for this, Terra," he said. "You're not the little girl that I remember."

A smile formed on her lips, and he wiped away her tears with the hem of his cloak. He hadn't passed beyond her reach. Not yet anyway. And for one more night she could pretend that everything was alright, and fall asleep in the arms of the man who carried her through the rain and rescued her plush moogle from the storm, a man who was farther away than she realized, and would soon leave this world, never to return again.

\------------------

The steady rhythm of the monitor mingled with the low hum of the machines that filled the room. The overhead lights buzzed, thrumming with a life force all their own. He could feel the vibration running through the wires that were attached to his head and chest. It was the same current that flowed freely through his blood, giving him the ability to conjure lightning.

Dr. Cid leaned over him, checking the connections and tightening the restraints around his wrists and ankles. When he said he was going to take precautions in case something went wrong, Kefka didn't know that this was what he meant. No one told him that he would be strapped down on a table during the transfusion.

Kefka tested the leather straps, and found that they barely gave an inch. He lifted his head off the table, trying to get a better look at the doctor who was in the process of attaching an IV bag to the metal stand beside the table. "Are you sure this is necessary? I mean really, what do you think I'm going to do?"

"I know this seems a bit extremene, but I don't know what sort of reaction you'll have. And I'm not taking any chances after your last tantrum nearly killed one of my assistants."

Kefka sighed, letting the back of his head hit the table with a dull thud. "My nose itches."

This man was incorrigible. He didn't care about the young man whose life almost came to an end when Kefka smashed his head against the wall. It meant nothing to him. None of it did. Existence was meaningless. Everything was born to die. What did it matter if one person met their end sooner than they had planned? They were all going to die anyway.

"If it makes you feel better, I wasn't trying to kill him," said Kefka, a wide grin spreading across his face, his features hideously distorted from the layers of makeup he was wearing. "I was aiming at Leo and missed. I'd do it if I could, though. I'd bash his brains out on the floor." He then proceeded to laugh in Cid's face.

The doctor sighed and shook his head. What happened to the young man who carried Terra through the rain? The Kefka he knew from long ago was dying right before his very eyes. And here he was, ready to begin the next step in the infusion process.

He hated himself for what he had done, and for what he was about to do. He knew that even if he stopped the experiments, there was no way to reverse the damage that had been done. Kefka's mind had been completely shattered, broken by the essence off magic that corroded his thoughts, until his sanity wasted away to nothing. What made things even worse was the fact that Gestahl still planned on creating more Magitek Knights. He couldn't imagine watching someone else suffer through the same kind of torment Kefka had endured, and yet he knew the day would come when one by one soldiers lined up to become one of the fabled knights that everyone had heard about.

If only he could figure out a way to prevent this from happening again. Because like it or not, Gestahl was going to force him to create more Magitek Knights. The experiments were going to continue, but this madness had to stop. He would not create an army of out of control magic infused warriors. He was determined to fix the mistakes he made with Kefka. It was too late to save his first experimental guinea pig, but maybe he could learn from Kefka's experience and figure out a way to make things right.

Kefka was now humming a tune as he stared at the ceiling, completely unconcerned about what might happen once the transfusion began. All he cared about was power and getting more of it, and in his mind he was already imagining the things he would do with said power. More fire, more death, ten times more destruction. He didn't even notice when Dr. Cid inserted the needle under his skin. The last thing he remembered was counting the tiles on the ceiling before everything went black and the sound of someone screaming filled his ears.

A woman's voice, screaming as she begged the doctor to stop. She was hysterical. It sounded like she was crying. There were hands everywhere, on his chest, on his legs, five people trying to hold him down. One of the leather straps broke. He was screaming and fighting the assistants who had to practically sit on him to keep him from leaping off the table.

"I can't stop!" Cid's voice, somewhere in the darkness of his mind. "Hold him down! If the needle breaks, it could go straight to his heart and kill him. And get her out of here! She's only making things worse."

Blackness. More voices. He was gasping for breath, his heart racing so fast he feared it might explode. He lashed out at one of the assistants. A feeble attempt. Can't even see straight, one arm uselessly flailing in the air. He tried to scream, but his voice was failing as the forces of magic completely overwhelmed his senses, pulling him down into oblivion.

\----------------

It took them three hours to revive him after he lost consciousness during the infusion. When he finally came to he was giddy and talkative, making wild hand gestures and rapidly spewing any random thought that came to mind. And aside from a headache and mild nausea, he seemed to be feeling fine. However the doctor decided it would be best to keep him in the hospital overnight for observation.

Kefka snorted and laughed, poking Cid in the chest with his index finger. "That's absurd. Why keep me here when I feel fine?"

This time the doctor didn't mince words. He told Kefka that his behavior was unusual, especially when compared to that of his previous post-infusion reactions.

"I don't think it's safe to release you so soon after having a major procedure. You need to stay here in case something goes wrong. It'll only be for twenty-four hours to make sure everything is alright."

"Humph!" Kefka folded his arms across his chest and slumped back against the mound of pillows on the bed. "How boring. To think I have to be stuck in this dump while the world passes me by." He turned his head and looked down at the little girl who was sitting on the chair beside his bed, then reached over and ruffled her curls. "At least I have you here to keep my company, my precious doll."

Cid shot Terra an anxious glance over his clipboard. Neither one of them were expecting him to react like this. He was unable to sit still, and within a matter of seconds he had thrown the covers off and moved over to the side of his bed, sitting with his feet tucked under him as he began telling Terra about his first ever magical blood transfusion.

"It was like some sort of hellishly intense introspective nightmare. Four hours or so of cataclysmic destruction. A voice was screaming, 'Holy shit! What are these goddamn animals?!' And there I was, total loss of all basic motor skills, my mind recoiling in horror, unable to communicate with the spinal column. Which is interesting because I was able to watch myself behaving in this terrible way."

"And how are you feeling now?" Terra asked, hesitating because she was afraid of his answer.

"Never better!" He clapped his hands together and smiled, then fell over on his back and started laughing.

The high he was feeling from the blood transfusion was short lived, and within a few hours he started feeling ill. The sickness came on suddenly, and within a matter of minutes he was on his knees in front of the toilet, heaving the remains of his breakfast into the porcelain bowl.

He was shaking violently, unable to catch his breath as a foul mixture of blood and vomit dripped from his lips. There was so much of it, staining the water and oozing down the rim of the toilet. Kefka wiped the blood off his lips with the back of his hand, his fingers coming away with scarlet strands and black flecks that looked like grains of sand. In some places the grains had coagulated, forming dark, wet lumps that resembled chunks of raw liver.

He was hemorrhaging magic as his body attempted to purge the foreign substance from his system. It was pouring from his nose, dripping from his lips, and when he coughed a fine mist of reddish-black fluid covered his hands. His chest and stomach ached with tremendous pain. He slowly sank to the floor, collapsing just as the door opened and Cid appeared in the doorway.

The doctor knelt down beside him, and Kefka felt Cid's arms around him as he lifted him up off the floor.

"Don't..." Kefka moaned, his hand against Cid's chest as he tried pushing him away. "S-stop... The Espers..." His voice cracked, and he started coughing, bringing up fresh blood that trickled down his chin, staining the collar of his hospital gown.

"Stop talking. You need to save your strength, Kefka."

"No, please. You have to listen to me." His hand was trembling as it closed around Dr. Cid's lab coat, his voice hoarse and his throat raw and bleeding. "The Espers..." he whispered hoarsely. "They're trying to kill me. Don't you understand? They're trying to kill me! I can feel it... In my head..."

This man was falling apart right before his very eyes. It was like everything he'd been through during the last year and a half came crashing down on him all at once. And when it finally hit, it hit hard. But Cid had more urgent matters to address. Kefka was bleeding internally, and if it wasn't stopped, there was a good chance he was going to go into shock and die.

He was taken into surgery where they managed to cauterize the bleeding patches in his throat and stomach. Apparently he'd been given so much magic that it overwhelmed his system. Kefka's body rejected the massive quantities of magic he'd received, and started hemorrhaging as a means of purging it from his body. The only thing Cid could do was reduce the amount of magic in the next infusion, and hope that it wasn't enough to overwhelm his system.

\--------------------

The illness continued for the next few days, leaving Kefka bedridden with a severe migraine, fever, nausea and stomach pain. He spent the first twenty-four hours being violently ill, and was unable to keep down the few sips of water Terra fed him from the glass on his nightstand. The stomach pain and constant vomiting kept him awake at night, and within a couple hours he was dehydrated and had to be given intravenous fluids to replenish the water he'd lost.

Week after week Kefka forced himself to endure sleepless nights, pain and sickness as he returned for more blood transfusions. Some people said he was crazy to willingly subject himself to such torturous medical procedures. But by then his mind was too far gone to care, and the last person who spoke out against Kefka's behavior mysteriously disappeared, only to turn up a week later in a garbage bin with his throat slashed.

One by one the soldiers started avoiding him, and would clear a path whenever Kefka walked down the street. Whispers and rumors started following him, like a soft murmur on the wind, their voices trembling with fright at the horrors they had seen. They had seen his rage, the unstoppable force that drove him to kill. The air around him shimmered with undulating waves of heat, his pale blue eyes shining with the light of madness. And no matter how many times they complained about his behavior to the Emperor, Gestahl continued to ignore their cries for help, until they were begging, pleading on their knees, asking him to save them from this monster.

Emperor Gestahl turned his back on them, smiling as the fallen soldier screamed, clawing at the carpet as he fought to drag his broken body into the throne room. But the pair of hands that curled around his ankles were stronger than he was, with nails like claws that dug into his skin.

"No! Your majesty, please... Please!"

Laughter filled the air, and the soldier gave one last bloodcurdling scream before his head parted ways with his neck, rolling across the carpet where it stopped at the Emperor's feet.

Silence. Gestahl was still, his eyes slowly traveling the length of the room, to the doorway where he could see Kefka hunched over the body of the fallen soldier. Blood was gushing from the soldier's headless corpse, pulsing in waves that mirrored the rhythm of his dying heart. The knight's hands were covered in blood, his face streaked with flecks of scarlet that stood out against the white of his makeup.

Kefka looked at him as though he were daring him to say something. He tightened his grip on the blade in his hand, his muscles tense, the air around him shimmering with amber waves of light. Gestahl considered him for a moment, then nodded, and Kefka's body visibly relaxed. This was the third time he'd gotten away with murder, and the first time he'd killed someone in front of the Emperor. He didn't know what Gestahl's reaction would be, and he didn't care. He'd plunge his blade into the Emperor's chest just as easily as he would his fellow soldiers. No one was above him. He was just biding his time, waiting for the day when he would be able to send this world on a one way trip to oblivion.

He didn't care how sick the experiments made him. He didn't care how much pain he had to endure for the sake of power. He lost the ability to feel any sort of empathy or compassion, letting magic guide him as he drove his blade into his fellow soldiers, as he watched the shining silver slice through nerves and flesh, laughing as blood poured out onto the floor. His mind was twisting like a tourniquet, his thoughts running in endless circles. He took whatever they threw at him and asked for more. And yet it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

He craved the rush he felt when magic invaded his body, that feeling of hatred and exhilaration overwhelming his senses, keeping him awake at night as he sparred with Terra. He was getting faster, stronger, and could match Terra blow for blow when they trained together. It was now possible for Kefka to increase the speed of his attacks, taking Terra by surprise as he rocketed off the walls, conjuring blazing balls of fire and hurling them at her with lightning speed.

It was sin and salvation all in one, wrapped in cold steel and bathed in warm blood. It was more than electricity flowing through his veins. It was a storm, racing through the skies as thunder shook the earth. And it was his to control, laughing on the wind, as each motion and every verse drove the storm onward through the skies.

When Dr. Cid learned of his newfound abilities, he developed a series of tests to monitor Kefka's speed and movement. He created a track for Kefka to run on, with numbers and lines on the wall, and a shallow layer of white powder spread across the floor. Each step he took left a mark in the powder, and could be matched up to one of the markings on the wall, allowing Cid to calculate speed and distance.

"It's called Haste!" said Kefka. He leaned forward, lifting the heels of his feet off the floor. He was practically bouncing on his toes, bobbing up and down and laughing. "I love it! With this I can finally keep up with Terra during our training."

"Yes, about your training," Cid drawled, his head down as he looked over the notes on his clipboard. "I've been discussing that with Emperor Gestahl, and he thinks it would be a good idea to build a proper training facility for you and Terra to practice."

"Really?" Kefka laughed even harder, giggling and skipping in circles around the room.

"Yes, he thinks it would be better if you had a place to train where we could monitor the both of you. A controlled environment, with enough space for you to move around freely without fear of damaging anything in your living quarters."

"Ha! Damages. You don't need to worry about us. We may blow a few holes in the ceiling from time to time, but we'll give you fair warning before we blow up the whole palace!"

Dr. Cid looked up from his clipboard. "I'm not worried about that, Kefka. I'm worried about you," he said, the seriousness of his tone showing his concern for the young man.

Kefka stopped skipping. He raised an eyebrow, the painted line over his eye rising with it. "Why? Aren't I doing everything Gestahl wants me to?"

"Well, yes, but the way you're going about it isn't safe, Kefka. You're sick for two to three days following the infusion, then you immediately bounce back and force yourself to keep training again until it's time for your next infusion. You aren't giving your body time to rest between infusions, which could lead to serious consequences if you don't start taking better care of yourself."

Kefka glared at him. "You don't have the slightest idea what I go through on a daily basis. I run myself ragged not because I  _want_  to, but because I  _have_  to. Do you think I like getting four hours of sleep at night? Do you think I enjoy puking my guts out in the middle of an important meeting with the mayor of Narshe? I hate hate hate hate it! It isn't a matter of choice, Cid. This is what the magic, no, this is what the Espers tell me to do. It's their fault I'm sick. It's their fault I can't sleep or sit still or have one single, solitary moment of peace inside my own head!"

He was working himself into a rage, the air around him crackling with electricity as he ranted and raved.

The doctor backed away, quaking with fear as he backed up against the wall. He was sure that Kefka was going to fry him to a crisp, roasting his innards and feeding them to one of the Espers in the holding tanks. But then suddenly he stopped, the arcing bands of electricity fading in an instant. Kefka was shaking, his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. He cried out, falling to the floor of the lab as his muscles tensed, his limbs jerking and twitching in spasms of uncontrollable movement.

"Kefka!" Cid ran towards him, calling for help from his assistants. But it was too late. The electrical impulses in Kefka's heart and brain misfired when they merged with the electricity in his blood, causing him to go into cardiac arrest as he seized up on the floor.

His breath caught in his chest, his heart stilled and his body went limp in Cid's arms. It was over in an instant, the doctor pumping his chest as he tried to resuscitate him. The Espers had finally won. They succeeded in breaking down the very fabric of his sanity, destroying his mind and body from the inside out. It would be some time before Kefka rose again, like the Phoenix being reborn from the ashes of his former self. And the man who awoke from the flames of his own destruction would never be the same again.


	16. Fading Embers

Terra began to worry when Kefka didn't return home before dark. She paced the floor, wringing her hands and glancing out the window every now and then, watching as the sky grew dark and the lights came on, bathing the streets in a gentle glow. She remembered all the times Kefka had warned her about the possibility of something going wrong during the infusions, and with the way his physical and mental health had taken a nosedive in recent months, it was hard to tell what could have happened to him.

One by one the hours slowly past. Night fell over Vector, the city lights streaming in through the window as Terra sat down on the couch, her knees drawn up against her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs, hugging herself as she gazed out the window. She started thinking back to the way things used to be before the experiments began. Back then the Kefka she knew was kind and gentle, a loving individual who had danced with her in the fields beyond Vector, the sun shining overhead as he held her hands and spun her around, laughing as the warm winds tugged at the corners of his cloak.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. The door opened, spilling a warm amber light across the floor, and Cid walked in, looking around the darkened room for the little girl.

"Terra? Are you in here?"

Terra practically flew off the couch. She ran towards him, asking if Kefka was alright and when he would be home.

Cid looked down at the little girl, her eyes bright with unshed tears. How on earth was he going to tell her what had happened? It was hard enough trying to explain these things to an adult, but the fact that Terra was a child made it even more difficult.

"I'm sorry, Terra. But I'm afraid he won't be coming home tonight. There was an incident at he lab, during which he had another seizure. This one was worse, the worst he's had so far. We managed to stabilize him, but he hasn't regained consciousness. We're still waiting for him to wake up."

"He's... He's still unconscious?" Terra sniffed, unable to hold to back tears that spilled down her cheeks. "When will he wake up?"

"We don't know. It could be a few days, or it could be weeks. It could even be a couple months. I'm sorry, but there's no way for us to know for sure if or when he'll wake up. All we can do is wait, and hope that he regains consciousness sooner rather than later."

Terra fell forward into his arms, burying her face in his coat as she hiccuped and sobbed. She thought for a moment that she was going to pass out, her knees buckling as the strength went out of her limbs. She welcomed the darkness, wanting to use it as a means of escaping the tremendous pain she felt. But it was not meant to be, and Dr. Cid picked her up, carrying her to the couch where he sat down with her, holding her until she cried herself to sleep in his arms.

\--------------

The next morning Cid took Terra to Kefka's room in the hospital, and explained that while he might not respond to the sound of her voice, it was a good idea for her to talk to him like she normally would, and that even the simple act of holding his hand or stroking his skin could be a comfort to him.

"He's still in there, Terra. He may very well be aware of everything that is going on around him. He just can't respond to things like he normally would."

Terra looked up at the doctor, then back at Kefka. The mage was unable to breathe on his own, and had to be placed on a ventilator to keep him breathing. Numerous wires were attached to his skin, connecting him to machines that monitored his vital signs, along with tubes in his arm that supplied fluids and nourishment. She'd seen him in the hospital before, but not under these conditions. It was always with the promise that he would wake up soon. But not this time. This time nothing was certain, and there was no way of knowing whether or not Kefka would wake up.

She approached his bed, announcing who she was just like Cid told her to do. She waited, hoping against hope that maybe he heard her voice, and that some part of him was able to respond. But there was only silence, broken by the sound of the monitor and the machines that were keeping him alive.

Her eyes filled with tears. She leaned against the metal railing on the bed, her head bowed and her face buried in her arms as she wept openly at his side. She didn't know how long she stood there, crying until her eyes were red and swollen. The world outside the window was starting to grow dark, the sun setting on the horizon as fiery shades of amber and gold filled the sky.

"Kefka," Terra murmured. "Why won't you wake up? Please, say something."

She reached over the railing, her hand closing around his. His skin felt hot to the touch, like fire was burning in his blood, which in reality wasn't far from the truth. The infusions had done more than ruin his mind, they were changing his body, shaping and molding him into something that was less than human. His temperature never dropped below one hundred degrees, his fingernails were growing at an alarming rate, transforming into razor sharp claws, and his ears were growing longer, tapering off to a point at the tip.

Fresh tears spilled down her face as the meaning of his letters suddenly became clear. Kefka realized what was happening to him long before she did. He knew that he couldn't stop what was happening, and that one day she would have to let him go.

She wondered why, what was the point of anything if everyone you loved went away in the end. How could she hold out hope when her best friend had departed in a flourish of red fabric, in a swath of feathers and brightly colored beads, laughing, smiling, acting like he didn't know her. It made her furious. It made her want to scream. This man was dying, these experiments were killing him, and no one cared or saw the hurt they caused. It was their fault that she had lost the best friend she ever had, and when Cid entered the room Terra screamed and threw herself at him, fighting with all the strength a nine year old human-Esper hybrid could muster, until they had to call the guards to pull her off him.

They dragged her, kicking and screaming, from the room, and at least one of the guards suffered second degree burns when Terra turned her rage on them. Dr. Cid couldn't blame her for being upset. Kefka was in a coma, and Terra was all alone without any guarantee that he would wake up. He couldn't even look at her as they carried her out of the room.

"I'm sorry, Kefka." He moved towards the bed, his fingers closing around the railing as he looked down the mage's prone form. "I know it doesn't fix what that happened, but I am really, truly sorry. I never would have put you through this if I knew the suffering it would cause. I would have insisted that we wait until a more refined process had been developed. I would have done things differently, if only I had known."

\--------------

Terra slept very little that night. She spent most of the evening curled up in a chair in Cid's office, her feet tucked under her as she silently wept. She hated being so close to the man that had ruined Kefka's mind with his experiments. But at the same time she didn't want to go home, not while Kefka was still in the hospital. When sleep finally found her, her dreams were filled with images of Kefka laughing and chasing her through the field. It was the same field they used to visit years ago before he succumbed to madness. But something was wrong. The skies above were dark, with clouds passing before the sun, casting shifting patterns of light and dark across the field.

A cold wind was blowing, surrounding him as his cloak rippled on the wind. Kefka loomed over her, rising up from out of the shadows like some demon from the depths of Hell. He had sprouted a pair of shining wings, his feathers drenched in blood that dripped and pooled at his feet.

"Come here, my precious," he whispered, his clawed hand reaching towards her. "My pretty, pretty doll. Such a lovely little toy. You're going to be my favorite toy, and I will make you mine forever."

It took her a moment to realize that his hands were covered in blood, and she screamed, sitting bolt upright on her cot and glancing wildly around the room. Her scream startled the young girl who was standing beside the bed.

The girl gasped, her hand against her chest as she turned and looked at Terra. "Don't do that!" she exclaimed. "I almost dropped my vase."

Terra blinked and looked at her in surprise. Someone had moved her to Kefka's room during the night, and she was now lying on a cot in the corner of the room. Celes was there, and was in the process of setting a vase of flowers on Kefka's bedside table when Terra woke up from her nightmare.

"Are you alright?" asked Celes. "I'm sorry about your friend. Dr. Cid sent me here to keep you company while he recovers." She hesitated, glancing at Kefka's prone form on the bed. "He is going to get better, isn't he?"

Terra sighed and buried her face in her hands. "I don't know."

Celes placed the vase on the table, then moved towards the cot and sat down beside her. "Hey, are you sure you're alright?"

"No." Terra shook her head. "I'm not sure of anything anymore." And that was the truth. She didn't even know why she saw Kefka as some sort of demonic angel in her dreams. She told herself that it couldn't have been him. But who's to say he couldn't become such a thing? Given enough time and magic, Kefka might continue to change into something or someone she didn't recognize, which was a frightening thought, and she shuddered, inhaling a deep breath and wrapping her arms around her chest.

"I haven't seen you for months," said Celes. "Did something happen?"

"Kefka hasn't been well." Terra sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I've been trying to help him feel better. Sometimes he doesn't have the strength to walk across the floor. He talks to himself, he throws up a lot...sometimes he throws up blood." Her voice cracked, and her words trailed off into silence. "I don't know what to do," she whispered. "He's not getting better."

It was then that Celes remembered the cemetery garden in Cid's greenhouse, her heart stalling momentarily in her chest as she imagined a cross with Kefka's name on it.

"It's alright," she said, trying her best to comfort her as Terra broke down in tears beside her blond companion. "I'm sure you did the best you could for him. But everything should be fine now. They'll take good care of him here." Or at least she hoped they would. She didn't even know him, but she certainly didn't want to see his name end up on one of those crosses in Cid's garden.

"No, they won't. It's this place that made him sick. They did this to him with their magic and their experiments. They're the ones that made him sick."

"Magic?" Despite spending an increasing amount of time with Cid in his greenhouse, Celes didn't know everything that went on in his laboratory. She knew they were performing tests on Terra, and she assumed Kefka had undergone a similar process, but this was the first time she heard someone say that magic was involved in these procedures.

Terra nodded. Right now she didn't care who she told about the goings on in the laboratory. She wanted them to know the truth, to see what they had done to Kefka. She wanted everyone to know that it was their fault he was sick.

"They put needles in him and injected him with magic. Dr. Cid said he has bad reactions because his body hasn't adjusted to it yet. And once he gets adjusted to it, they up the dosage and keep filling him full of magic until he starts having seizures."

"Well, if magic made him sick, can't magic make him better?" Celes hadn't been in Terra's situation where she had to watch someone she cared about going downhill from these experiments. Her views on magic were different, thanks to the time she spent in the greenhouse caring for Cid's enchanted roses.

"Magic can't heal him," said Terra. "I know. I've tried."

Celes was silent, her mouth opening and closing like a guppy. When she finally found her voice, she managed to utter a single word.

"How?"

Terra looked at her, her eyes traveling from her face to her hands, moving down her body until she spied the scabs on her knees. Like most children, Celes spent a lot of time outdoors, running and playing, which often resulted in minor cuts and scrapes. Terra held her hand over Celes' left knee, a faint white light emanated from the palm of her hand, and within seconds Celes was healed.

"That's how," said Terra. "We can both use magic. I was born with it, but he wasn't. They created those experiments to give him magic so he can cast spells like I can."

Celes was in awe of Terra's abilities. A thousand questions filled her head all at once. She wanted to know everything there was to know about magic and Espers. She wanted to know why Terra was born with the ability to use magic, but she didn't feel it was appropriate to bombard her with the thousand and one questions that were floating around her head. Not when Kefka was possibly on his death bed and might not recover from his latest seizure. So she decided to wait until later that afternoon when Dr. Cid was alone in his greenhouse, then confront him and see if he would tell her anything.

\--------------

The sun was already beginning to set as Celes made her way down the path that lead to Cid's greenhouse. She knew that no matter how busy he was, he always found the time to spend a couple minutes each day in his greenhouse, usually in the early morning and late afternoon after dinner. It wasn't unusual for her to spend most of her time in the greenhouse, caring for his plants when he was too busy to look after them. It was because Leo had been given a promotion, and ever since then he had little time to spend with her.

Celes still visited Leo when she could, and listened as he told her stories about work. Most of it was classified information, so he couldn't reveal too much about what was going on behind closed doors. But one thing was certain, the Imperial army was growing, and every day there was more noise and smoke coming from the factory located on the eastern end of Vector.

She arrived at the greenhouse to find the scientist hunched over a table in the corner. He was removing the leaves from his one and only Thamasain rose, and putting them in test tubes that contained a thin, clear liquid. One by one he gently plucked the leaves off the rose with a pair of tweezers, then dropped them in the watery solution. He held the vial up to the light, swirling its contents until the leaf dissolved, leaving behind a black, grainy, siltlike residue in the bottom of the vial. He repeated this process five times, and each time he was left with trace amounts of black silt in the bottom of the vial.

His eyes widened as he looked at the shifting grains of silt suspended in the clear fluid. If this was what he thought it was, if this was in fact the essence of magic, it would mean he had discovered a secondary source of magic. But this source was so small it would be of little to no value to those within the Empire who needed massive quantities of it to fuel their weapons and machines. However there might still be a use for it. Not for powering weapons of mass destruction, but as a safer means of testing the effects of magic without experimenting on humans.

"Dr. Cid?"

He glanced over his shoulder at her when he heard Celes say his name. "What is it, sweetheart? I'm a little busy right now, so you might want to make this quick."

"Terra showed me her magic this morning."

"What?!" Cid almost dropped the vial in his hand. He spun around, eyes wide as he looked down at the little girl. "She showed you that she can use magic?"

Celes nodded. "What are they doing to Kefka? Terra says he can use magic because of what they've been doing to him. I always believed in magic, but I didn't know that some people had to have these experiments done in order to use magic. And why is it that Terra can use magic without the experiments? Why is she different?"

The doctor was at a loss for words. He didn't expect Terra to suddenly blurt out everything she knew about magic. "How much did she tell you?" he asked. "What did she tell you?"

"Not much. She said Kefka was injected with magic, and that the experiments made him sick. She was really upset. She blames the people who did this to him, and says that it's their fault he's sick."

"Really? That's what she told you?" As if he didn't feel bad enough already for what he had done. Terra was furious with him, and it seemed as though she wasn't going to stop until everyone in Vector knew who was responsible for Kefka's illness. "Listen to me, Celes. Terra doesn't know everything. In fact I doubt if Kefka has been telling her the truth about how this started, or what goes on in the laboratory. But the point is Kefka volunteered to be part of a research project to see if humans could be given the gift of magic. It was his choice. I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen."

That sounded terrible. It made him sound like he was trying to avoid taking the blame for had happened. Kefka made his decision on his own, but Cid was the one who strapped him down and filled him so full of Esper blood that the man was literally hemorrhaging magic. And Gestahl, he was responsible for Kefka's illness as well. He saw what the experiments were doing to him, and yet he kept pushing for more, ordering more tests, more infusions, more magic until Kefka was driven over the edge into insanity.

They were pushing him too far too fast, like an animal that had been whipped and beaten, forcing it to stand and walk, to continue its journey up the side of a mountain, carrying a heavy load of supplies on its back. They were the ones responsible for looking after him. They were responsible for the care and treatment he received during the experiments. And it was only a matter of time before he broke under the weight of everything they were doing to him.

Dr. Cid collapsed in slow motion onto the chair beside the table. He looked back at the roses that lined the shelves behind him, their pots lined with crosses that bore the names of every Esper that died for the sake of his research. He felt a tremendous amount of guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders, and knew that it was wrong to avoid taking responsibility for what he'd done.

"Celes," he said slowly. "Kefka volunteered to take part in these experiments, but we had no way of knowing what it would do to him. And when his health started to decline, when he started showing signs of illness and mental instability, we could have taken better care of him. We could have done things differently, spacing out the infusions so he had more time to recover. The worst was when Emperor Gestahl insisted on taking him to Figaro. I told him time and time again that Kefka was in no shape to travel. I saw what was happening to him, and yet the Emperor stood aside and waved it off like it was nothing. I dont know if he was blind to the effects the experiments were having on him, or if he simply didn't care, but we all had a hand in this, Celes. We were both responsible for Kefka's illness. I kept giving him the infusions, and the Emperor kept shoving him out the door and sending him on missions."

Silence stretched between them, lingering for what felt like several hours as the sun continued to dip below the horizon. Shadows fell across her face, and Celes took a step forward. "What are you doing to your rosebush?"

Cid glanced down at the vial in his hand, then quickly set it aside on the table. "This? It's just another project I'm working on. I'm trying to figure out how to refine the infusion process. You know, experimenting, magical plants..." His words died in his throat before he finished his sentence. He didn't want to have this conversation with her. And long about now he felt so horrible that he wanted to crawl under the rug and die.

"You think this'll help make things better?" she asked.

"Not for Kefka, no. It's too late for him. The best we can do is hope that he'll eventually wake up and recover from this whole ordeal. No, this is for the next generation of Magitek Knights. I'm trying to refine the process so this doesn't happen again. And I'll be damned if I let Gestahl force me to start experimenting on anyone before the process is complete."

Celes walked over to the table. She looked up at the Thamasain rose, its petals shining in the fading light of dusk. This flower had the ability to glow in the dark, and would continue to shine like the noonday sun long after night had fallen on Vector. She wondered how a single flower could make a difference, and was curious as to how he would use it in his research.

"It's getting late," said Cid. "You ought to go back to the hospital and keep Terra company. I'll be there in a little while once I finish my work."

But Celes was hesitant to leave. There were still so many questions, and every answer that he gave her only spawned more questions, until her mind was spinning in circles from everything she'd seen and heard. She lingered by the table for several seconds, watching the delicate rose sparkle in the late afternoon sunlight, then slowly turned and headed back to the hospital.


	17. Will You Remember Me?

The first thing he felt was pain. It was distant, separated from the rest of his body. He didn't know if the pain he felt was real, or if he was still asleep and dreaming, but his body reacted anyway, each involuntary motion disconnected from the rest of his physical body.

Some feeble attempt at language dribbled past his lips, and he moaned, his eyes opening briefly as he stared vacantly at the ceiling. He wasn't aware of the fact that he had turned his head away from the source of his pain, his eyes closing as he slipped back into the shadowy recesses of his mind.

"Kefka, can you hear me?"

No response.

The doctor sighed. "I'm sorry, Terra. I think we've lost him again."

It had now been five days since Kefka had gone into a coma. He was breathing on his own again without the use of machines, but he was unable to speak or open his eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. Dr. Cid was feeling optimistic about Kefka's recovery, and hoped that it wouldn't be much longer until the mage regained consciousness. However, given the state of Kefka's mental health prior to his last seizure, he feared what would happen once Kefka recovered enough to regain control of his magic. The mage was rapidly descending down a one way path of destruction, and he wouldn't be happy until he took everyone down with him.

Although he'd never admit it, Cid was terrified of the crazed magician. Almost everyone in the palace was afraid of Kefka, but not Terra. She remained at his bedside, never leaving him for more than a few minutes at a time, and could often be seen talking to him, reading him books, and singing to him. Sometimes she would hold his hand, speaking softly as she told him about the present she was making for him.

"It's a get well soon present," she said, trying hard to smile through her tears. "I know how much you like feathers and beads, so I'm making a charm for your hair. It'll have lots of pretty beads. Red ones, blue ones. I know how much you like the color red, so I thought I'd start with that first. And when I'm finished, I'll add something special to it, just for you. But I can't tell you what it is. I want it to be a surprise. You'll have to wake up if you want to see it."

She sat in silence for several minutes, watching his chest rise and fall with slow, shallow breaths. They had to carefully monitor him in case he stopped breathing again, and for a while his fate was uncertain when he stopped breathing several times during the night. But for now his condition was stable, and as long as they supplied him with oxygen through a tube in his nose, he was able to breathe and rest comfortably.

Terra sighed and returned to her cot. She picked up the jar of beads and continued stringing them on a piece of thin, silver wire, starting with red beads followed by a series of small, silver beads. She then reached into the jar, fishing around for something different, something colorful and unique that she knew he would like.

She found a bead that was sky blue with red and black stripes and added it to her charm. Then came more silver beads, a clear one that was shaped like a heart, more silver, then a few green, blue, pink and clear beads. The green beads had black lines that resembled a spider web. The pink and blue beads were marked with a similar pattern, except the webbing was dark pink and blue instead of black.

When she was finished stringing beads on the length of wire, she unhooked the clasp on her necklace and removed the star shaped pendant hanging from the silver chain. She carefully attached the pendant to the charm, then tied the remaining wire in a knot to keep the beads from sliding off the end. The last step involved fastening a hairtie to the top of the charm. She did this by wrapping the wire around the elastic band, then pulling the hairtie through the loop so that it knotted itself on one end.

The charm was beautiful, with brightly colored beads and a special keepsake to remind him of her each time he wore it. She could easily imagine him wearing it in his hair, alongside the colorful feathers he was so fond of. It would go good with the brightly colored feathers he tucked in his ponytail. Now if only he would wake up so he could see the present she made for him.

\--------------

Kefka continued to drift in and out of consciousness, waking only for short periods of time before lapsing back into unconsciousness. Sometimes he would moan and mutter incomprehensible nonsense while Terra held his hand and tried getting him to respond to the sound of her voice. She thought she heard him say her name, but his speech was slurred, making it impossible for her to understand what he was saying.

"Come on, Kefka." She brushed his hair out of his face, watching as his eyelids drooped and his head lolled to the side. "You know who I am, don't you? It's me. Terra."

"T-tear-rah?"

Terra gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. There was no mistaking it this time. She was sure he'd said her name.

"Yes, that's right. It's me. Terra."

His eyes widened, as though suddenly realizing who she was.

The little girl smiled, looking up at Dr. Cid who was standing beside the bed, watching everything that was going on. She then turned her attention back to Kefka, and lightly squeezed his hand. "You're going to be alright. Everything is fine now. I'm here, Kefka. And I'm never going to leave you."

Kefka's eyes traveled the length of the room. None of this looked familiar. Not the walls, the floor, or even the man standing beside his bed. He began to panic, but was unable to utter more than a few small, frightened whimpers as he tried and failed to sit up in bed.

Dr. Cid placed a hand on his chest, applying gentle pressure as he held him down in bed. "Calm down, Kefka. It's alright. You're in a safe place, and I promise we'll take good care of you."

The only thing that seemed familiar was the little girl beside his bed. He knew her name, but why was she here? Why was he here? Why was this happening and why wouldn't they let him leave?

A harsh cry escaped his lips, and the mage broke down in tears, unable to understand what was going on or why they had confined him to this room. His memories had faded, leaving him broken and alone with the voices that echoed in his mind. Is this why they put him in here? Because of the strange voices he was hearing? Perhaps that little girl could help. There was something about her presence that helped ease his anxiety, and when he looked into her eyes, he remembered feeling a sense of calm whenever she was near.

"Wait, I think something's wrong." Terra glanced nervously at the doctor, who took a step back and lifted his hand off Kefka's chest. He looked at them with uncertainty, watching as Terra leaned over the railing on the bed and held Kefka's hand in both of hers. The mage tried to speak, but all he could manage were a few hoarse, strangled sobs. Kefka knew this little girl was important to him, but he couldn't remember why. He couldn't remember anything beyond his time spent in the orphanage, and those hands that used to beat him when he was young.

He clung to her, desperately trying to remember something, anything that would tell him who she was. And then he saw it, a faint glimmer of light penetrating the shadows in his mind. The laboratory, the Espers, the pain he felt when they first injected him with the essence of magic. This girl was one of them. She was half-Esper. But there was more to it than that. He was sure of it. Now if only he could remember what it was.

Kefka continued to struggle with his memories, but was unable to recall much of his past. He became increasingly frustrated with his inability to remember important events from his past, and started throwing tantrums like a child, screaming and throwing things whenever something didn't go his way. It was these childish outbursts that worried Cid the most, because if Kefka had the strength to summon his magic, his tantrums could quicky escalate into destructive fits of rage.

He knew Kefka was capable of causing massive amounts of destruction when he was upset. He'd seen it before when Kefka had his so-called accident in the testing room and attacked Leo. But for the time being they were able to keep him under control, thanks to Terra who was the only one who could get through to him when he was having one of his childish fits.

The little girl stood beside his bed, smiling as she held his present behind her back. "I made you a present, Kefka. I worked on it while you were asleep."

"What is it?" His voice was low and groggy. He looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep, and it wouldn't be the first time Kefka had dozed off during one of their conversations.

"You have to guess which hand it's in."

Kefka looked at her, then slowly nodded in the direction of her right hand. "That one."

Terra giggled and held out her hand. It was empty. "Try again."

"The other one then," said Kefka.

"Yes!" Terra held out her left hand, revealing the ornate charm she had made for him. "Do you like it?"

"Your necklace," he said slowly, noticing the pendant that was attached to the end of the charm. He vaguely remembered seeing that pendant before, the silver star glinting in a flash of lightning as thunder sounded overhead. "That pendant... It's from your necklace, isn't it?"

"Yep." Terra nodded. "That's good, Kefka. You remembered."

"Why would you give me that?" He seemed confused as to why she would give him such a special gift. Did he really mean that much to her? And if so, what had he done to cause her to love and care for him as though he were an older brother?

"Because I love you," said Terra. "I want you to have it, Kefka, so that when you're away on business in some other town or country, you'll still have a part of me to take with you."

"You love me?" Now the poor mage was really confused.

"Yes, of course I do. You've always been there for me, and so this is my way of always being there for you."

He stared at the beads that adorned the silver wire, as though he were mesmerized by their bright colors and intricate designs. The webbing and stripes blurred together, melding with the rainbow of colors that spilled from the heart shaped bead in the center of the charm. It reminded him of the curtains in Figaro castle, and suddenly he had an idea.

Kefka managed a weak smile. If he could he would have laughed, but he barely had the strength to keep his eyes open. "Thank you, Terra. I promise to wear it as soon as I get better."

\----------------

Kefka spent the next several days working on willing his limbs to move. He never imagined it would be so difficult to do something as simple as lifting his head off the pillow, or sitting up in bed. The first time he tried sitting up, Kefka blacked out from the rush of blood to his head. He refused to let the nurse help him out of bed, relying on Terra for assistance whenever he felt like getting up and moving around.

He slowly forced himself into a sitting position, then eased his feet over the side of the mattress. He took a deep breath, and tried forcing the noise out of his head. He needed to concentrate on his balance, as he put one foot in front of the other and tried walking across the floor.

Terra stood off to the side, her arm around him as she helped hold him steady. Kefka only managed a few steps before his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor. Terra fell to the floor beside him, landing on her knees as he slumped against the bed, groaning as a piercing pain stabbed the inside of his skull. His head was aching fit to burst, and he screamed, throwing her off him as he fell forward onto his hands and knees.

"Kefka?" Terra blinked and looked at him with confusion in her eyes.

"Don't touch me!" he shouted. He doubled over, raking his long fingernails through his hair as he clutched his aching head. He was shaking uncontrollably, his heart pounding as he fought to maintain his composure. He glanced around in confusion, his eyes falling on the girl that was sitting on the floor beside him.

Terra crawled across the floor, then reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Kefka. It's me. Terra. You remember me, don't you?"

He stared at her, unable to recognize the voice that was speaking to him. There were too many voices screaming all at once, barking and howling, fighting for dominance within the confines of his mind. He knew he should remember her name. She was important to him, but his memory failed him, and he collapsed against her, shaking and sobbing.

"I don't know what's happening to me!" he wailed. "It's like parts of my brain have started shutting down and I can't... I don't remember..." He hiccupped, inhaled a harsh, grating breath and started coughing. "Terra," he rasped. He all but crushed her against her against his chest. "I remember now. You're my doll. My pretty, pretty doll."

Terra's eyes widened as she gazed up at him. Was he humming? No, he couldn't be. And yet he was. Humming and grinning and rocking back and forth, holding her close as he gently stroked her soft green curls.

"Pretty doll," he whispered. He didn't seem to blink as much as normal people, his eyes boring into hers with such intensity that she dare not look away.

"Kefka." His name escaped her in the form of a frightened whisper. She feared that he was losing what little sanity he had left, as he spoke her name over and over between strange fits of harsh laughter and wet, hacking coughs. He was still holding her and laughing when Dr. Cid opened the door and spied the pair of magic users on the floor.

He crossed the room in a matter of seconds, his hand closing around Kefka's arm as he tried lifting the small, thin man off the floor.

"No!" Kefka screamed. "You won't take my doll away from me! She's my doll. She belongs to me! She's mine! Mine and mine alone!"

Kefka was still screaming when Cid managed to pull him off her and forced him down in bed. Terra quickly snatched the doll off the bedside table and thrust it into his arms, hoping it would calm him down once he had something that would distract him and take his mind off her.

"Kefka, look. It's your doll. See? Everything is alright now. This is your doll, not me."

Kefka's eyes widened, his mouth forming a perfectly round circle as he stared at the doll in his arms. He was still for several seconds as realization slowly dawned on him. A smile creased the corners of his lips, and he brought the doll to his face, hugging it and rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric of its dress. "Doll," he cooed. He then looked at Terra and asked, "What about you? Do you have Yahee? Where's Yahee?"

"Yes, Kefka, I do." Terra turned around and picked up the ragged moogle that was sitting on the cot beside his bed. She held it up for him to see. "See? Here he is."

A nervous grin formed on her lips, and Kefka leaned forward to examine the worn toy.

"Yes, I suppose that's him." Kefka reached over and patted her head. "Good for you, darling." He then went back to cuddling his doll and humming to himself.

Silence filled the room as Cid and Terra stood there staring at him.

"How did you know that would work?" Cid whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

Terra shrugged, looking just as bewildered as he did. "I didn't. I just took a wild guess and it worked. But those dolls, they seem to comfort him when he's upset. I don't know why, they just do."

"The moogle." He slowly turned his head, afraid to take his eyes off Kefka as he glanced at Terra. "Did you give it that name? Or is that what he calls it?"

"I named it. It was given to me a long time ago, and I named him Yahee."

With a little help from Terra, Cid was able to get Kefka to cooperate long enough examine him, making sure that he hadn't suffered any sort of injuries during the fall. Thankfully, the crazed magician was too preoccupied with his doll to play much attention to the doctor. It was then that Cid noticed the intense amount of heat radiating off Kefka's skin. He brushed his blond hair out of his face, and placed the palm of his hand against his forehead. The man's skin was so hot it felt as though he was on fire.

His temperature continued to rise as the late afternoon faded into early evening. Terra stayed beside his bed, dabbing at his face and neck with a damp washcloth. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, shivering and sweating as the fever raged throughout his body. During the few moments he was alert and aware of her presence, Terra tried spoonfeeding him some plain broth. But the headache and nausea had come back with a vengeance, and his body rejected any sort of fluids or nourishment he was given. Kefka finally fell asleep around eight o' clock in the evening, just as Celes was walking into the room to see how he was doing.

"He's not getting any better, is he?" asked Celes, taking her usual seat beside Terra.

Terra sighed. "I don't know. I thought he was getting better, but now it looks like he's getting worse."

Kefka moaned in his sleep, his fingers and hands twitching. His muscles tensed, and a sudden spasm jerked his head up off the pillow before sinking back down into the mass of cotton and fabric. He had fallen asleep with his doll tucked under his arm, and parts of the doll's hair and dress could be seen peeking out from under the covers.

Terra looked down at the sleeping mage and heard him muttering something under his breath. She bit her bottom lip, cringing at the sound of his angry voice. The last thing she wanted for was Kefka to have another one of his nightmares while he was in the hospital. He tightened his grip on the doll, his body tensed, and Terra held her breath. She waited for him to start screaming, to lash out in a fit of rage at the monsters that haunted his dreams, but it never came. His demons relented and released him from the clutches of his nightmare, allowing him to rest.

Her body visibly relaxed, and Terra released a weary sigh. "It's not his fault," she said softly, wringing out the excess water in the washcloth and draping it across Kefka's forehead. "None of this is. He's just very sick, and we're doing all we can to help him get better. But I doubt if they can help. They don't even know how sick he really is, or all the accidents he's had in the last couple of months. He's lucky he hasn't killed himself with the stunts I've seen him pull." Her breathing hitched, catching in her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes, and for a minute she was unable to speak.

"Terra, is something wrong?" Celes cocked her head to the side, looking at her with concern.

"They keep filling him full of magic, and when he gets sick he tries to heal himself." Terra swallowed hard, trying to find her voice as a well of emotion closed around her throat, making it difficult for her to speak. "He doesn't tell them half of what goes on. He's been using spells and potions to heal the injuries he gets from training. I've seen him covered in blood, with bruises and broken bones. One time I had to heal him when he broke his ribs during a fall. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't even speak the incantation. So I healed him, and he got right back up and tried it again."

Celes' eyes went wide. "How did he fall and break his ribs?"

"He was trying to fly using a spell called Float." Terra sniffed, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of he'd hand. "He hasn't perfected it yet, but he keeps trying. I've lost track of the number of times he's injured himself. And all they keep doing is giving him more magic. He doesn't sleep, he barely eats, his body finally gave out on him and now..." Her words trailed off, and she motioned with a hand towards the sleeping mage. "Just look at him. This is what happened because they wouldn't stop, because he wouldn't stop, and now I don't know if he's ever going to get better."

Celes didn't say anything. She didn't know of any words that would help ease Terra's pain, and promising her that he would get better when they weren't sure whether or not he'd recover seemed like empty words, promises she couldn't keep because his fate was still uncertain. So she scooted a little closer and put her arm around her as Terra began to cry. The only thing she could offer at a time like this was herself, her time and friendship, as well as a shoulder to cry on when it felt like the world was crumbling under her feet.


	18. Rainbow Of Hate

Celes and Terra continued their conversation in hushed tones at Kefka's bedside, unaware of the meeting that was currently being held in the great hall. Dr. Cid had been called in to attend the meeting, and was not looking forward to facing Gestahl now that the Emperor had finally realized what the experiments had done to his precious pet.

Gestahl was fit to be tied when Cid walked into the meeting, yelling and cursing as General Regulus cringed, shrinking away from the Emperor. Regulus' son Leo sat beside him at the table, his eyes wide as he listened to the Emperor's furious rant. Leo glanced at his father, wondering how he was able to maintain his composure while Emperor Gestahl was throwing a fit. Apparently his father was used to seeing Gestahl like this, and had become accustomed to his profanity laced fits of rage.

This was the hidden side of Emperor Gestahl that he kept secret from the public. He had a vicious temper and was willing to execute anyone who stood in his way. The only thing that separated him from Kefka was that Gestahl knew how to behave himself in public, and had attained a level of social grace that Kefka had yet to master. He had to if he wanted to keep his title, because power was everything to a man who was hell bent on taking over the world.

Gesthal slammed his fist on the table, causing Leo to start and leap nearly a foot into the air. "What do you mean he isn't responding to the medication? Do you have any idea how far this will set us back? I had to hault production of all Magitek weapons while you work on resolving this issue. Meanwhile the forces in Albrook are gathering against us, King Edgar is having second thoughts about siding with us, and my finest knight is still in the hospital."

"I'm sorry, your Highness," Cid apologized. "There's little I can do for him right now. Tests show that the level of magic in his blood has not decreased since we admitted him two weeks ago. This is why all attempts to remedy the situation have failed. There's too much magic in his system, and it's preventing the medication from working properly."

"Then why are you still medicating him if you know it isn't working?"

"I didn't say it isn't working, sir. It is working, but it's not as effective as it would be for a normal patient. So far we've been able to prevent him from having another seizure, but the antifibrinolytic medication has little effect on him. He's still coughing up blood from time to time, though he hasn't been hemorrhaging magic like he was before the coma."

Gestahl sighed and held out his hand. "Just give me the damn medical report so I can read it."

"Yes, sir." Dr. Cid handed him a large folder containing the latest medical reports and information regarding Kefka's health. He was grateful for the fact that Gestahl had finally decided to look at Kefka's medical records. Though he couldn't help but feel as though it was too little too late now that Kefka had finally lost his mind.

"Hemorrhaging magic," Gesthal muttered as he flipped through the papers, reading several lines of text before pausing and looking up at Dr. Cid. "How does someone bleed magic?"

"It happens when the body becomes overwhelmed with large amounts of magic. The human body treats magic as a foreign substance, and unless it has built up a resistance to it, it will reject it and try to eliminate it from the body. This results in spontaneous internal bleeding, usually in the stomach and esophagus, though intracranial bleeding has been known to occur as well."

Emperor Gestahl's eyebrows rose towards his hairline. "Intracranial bleeding?"

"Yes, sir." Cid nodded.

"No wonder the poor boy was in a coma."

Leo's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe that they were sitting there discussing Kefka's symptoms as though the man had nothing more than a simple cold.

Gestahl leaned back in his seat, and an uncomfortable silence filled the air as he looked over the papers in the folder. "When was his last infusion?" he asked, not looking up from the papers as he spoke.

"Two and a half weeks ago, sire," said Cid.

"And you say the levels of magic in his blood have not decreased?"

"That is correct, sir."

More silence.

"Sir, if I may, I'd like to make a suggestion."

"Go on," said Gestahl, his nose still buried in the papers.

"I think it would be best if he started receiving infusions biweekly. He's receiving higher doses of magic with the transfusions, and the combination of weekly infusions, work, and training with Terra has exhausted him. His resistance is low, his body is fighting to adjust to the changes brought on by the infusions, and he needs more time to rest and recover."

Gesthal did not look pleased. An ugly frown creased the corners his lips, his dark eyes narrowing as he glared at the doctor. "Everything is on hold while we wait for him to recover, Marquez. You've yet to establish the correct formula to fuel the Magitek armor, and the process that was used to grant Palazzo the ability to use magic is flawed at best." He stuffed the papers in the folder and slid them across the table. "The longer we wait, the more our enemies have time to gather their forces against us."

"He is correct," said Regulus. "There has been a great deal of resistance in Albrook, and tensions are high between the empire and the kingdom of Figaro. I'm afraid King Edgar does no trust us, not since his majesty ordered the assassination of his father. They are the only nation with the strength and technology to wage war on the empire. And while I doubt they would be able to overcome the might of the empire, we would be much better off with Magitek weapons at our disposal."

"There isn't much I can do until the process is perfected." Dr. Cid tucked the loose sheets of paper into the folder, making sure everything was in order before continuing. "I need time to work on refining the infusion process. And I can't do that if a majority of my time is spent nursing Kefka back to health. So I would strongly suggest that you allow him more time between infusions, because you won't have much of an army if your only knight is dead."

Regulus looked at Emperor Gestahl. "He does have a point, you know. And while I am eager to see this project move forward, I think it would be wise to remember that Palazzo is a human being, and that he needs to be treated with the same amount of care and respect as any other human being. Perhaps even more since he's been having health issues due to the experiments."

"Thank you, General," said Dr. Cid, smiling and nodding.

"Fine then. Two weeks it is." Gestahl leaned forward in his seat, his face shadowed by the overhead lights. "But I'd better see some positive results, Marquez. And don't forget that I have plans for Palazzo in Albrook once he's recovered."

"I won't forget, sir." Cid cringed at the mention of taking Kefka to Albrook, for he knew it was Gestahl's way of testing him like he did in Figaro. It was only a matter of time until Gestahl unleashed the full power of Kefka's rage on some unsuspecting city. And when he did, the world would know the true meaning of fear, as they witnessed a destructive force not seen on earth for a thousand years.

\-----------

That night as he slept, Kefka dreamt of fields of fire, with whips lashing at his open wounds as he forced to march between the towering spires of smoke and flames. Sweat cascaded down his face, mingling with the blood that oozed from over a dozen wounds. There were heavy iron chains around his waist and neck, his wrists shackled to a cart that was piled high with the bodies of soldiers and Espers that had died in battle.

The chain around his neck was nothing more than a leash, binding him to the empire that was pushing him towards his death. His steps faltered, his sight swimming as he fell to his knees. His stomach heaved, and blood gushed out onto the burning earth, spattering the ground with a flood of hot, crimson fluid.

"Faster!" a voice shouted. "Move!"

The sorcerer was laughing as he lashed out with his whip, leaving behind raw, stinging wounds along Kefka's back and arms.

The whip cracked, and Kefka's scream rang out in the night, piercing the silence and echoing in the still night air. There was no escaping the flames that consumed his flesh. His body was broken, his soul lost amid the flames. All things were born for their inevitable destruction, and he was no exception. Kefka's body would soon waste away to nothing, reduced to ash and washed away in blood.

His throat was raw from screaming, his insides had been reduced to a bloody mass of blackened pulp, torn by magic and churned by the corrosive substance that was eating away at his brain. Blood leaked from every orifice, pouring from his mouth, his nostrils, his eyes. He closed his eyes and lay down in the dirt, awaiting the endles silence that followed after death.

In death he would be reborn, fulfilling his destiny, as blood poured from his gaping wounds, congealing and solidifying, until they formed the wings that would carry him through the clouds and onward towards the destruction of the earth.

\-------------

It took Kefka three weeks to fully recover. He was released from the hospital following a thorough examination and psychological evaluation, which he lied his way through in order to pass. It was simple really. He knew these buffoons well enough that he could tell them what they wanted to hear and be on his way. And long about now he didn't care what it took to get out of that miserable dump. All he cared about was getting Terra and leaving as soon as possible.

"Come," he said, motioning to Terra with a wave of his hand. "We have work to do."

Terra was surprised when he didn't return home immediately after leaving the hospital. Instead he took her on a shopping spree through Vector, purchasing several different types of fabric from various stores throughout the city. They returned home hours later, with Terra carrying a large bundle of assorted fabric. The material they bought came in every color of the rainbow, with stripes and spots, mismatched patterns and swirls.

Kefka collapsed on the couch in the middle of his living room, smiling as he motioned for Terra to come sit down beside him. The little girl set the pile of material on the coffee table, then sighed in relief as she took a seat beside him on the couch.

"It feels good to be home, doesn't it?" he asked, his arm around her as she snuggled against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Yes, it does. But what are you going to do with all that material?"

Kefka grinned. "You'll see, darling. I have something very special planned for that. Something I never would have thought of it weren't for that charming little charm you made for me. You see I realized that my clothes are quite boring." He frowned, looking down at his shirt and plucking a miniscule fuzzball off the crimson fabric. "I need a change. Something new, something refreshing."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking of something that would go good with the charm you made." He clapped his hands together, a smile blossoming on his lips as he sat up suddenly and laughed. "And you, my pretty little doll! You're going to help me. You've always enjoyed working with me on our little projects, yes?"

Terra hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. "Yes, of course I do."

She was surprised by how lively and animated he'd become. He giggled and laughed, his whole body convulsing in spasms of powerful laughter as he leaned forward on the couch, doubling over as he whooped and cackled.

"Yes, yes! Splendid! I knew I could count on you." Kefka took a deep breath as he tried to bring himself under control. "This won't be easy, Terra," he said with a casual wave of his clawed hand. "To be honest, I have no idea what I'm doing. Which doesn't really matter because I usually have no idea where I'm at or what I'm doing most of the time anyway." He said this very fast, and Terra had to duck as he spread his arms wide. "But you, my lovely toy, you know how to make beautiful things. I know because you made me that beautiful charm. That is why I need your help. And together we will make all sorts of wonderful things."

"Right." Terra wondered what she was getting herself into. She was happy to see him so energetic and full of life, but she couldn't help feeling as though something was wrong. Had they given him too much medication? She knew he was taking medicine to reduce the risk of him having another seizure, as well as medicine that promoted blood clotting so he wouldn't hemorrhage to death. But what else were they giving him? Or maybe it was the exact opposite. Maybe there was something he needed to be taking but wasn't. Like a sedative. Either way life was about to get very interesting for Terra Branford, and nothing, including their relationship, would ever be the same again.

Kefka and Terra spent the next few days buried alive in an avalanche of mismatched fabric. Silk scarves were draped across the back of the couch, and bits of material littered the room, covering every inch of the floor as Kefka laid patterns on the table, reading the instructions while Terra sorted through piles of material. Did he really need this much fabric? What was he going to do with all of it? And then, little by little, his new outfit started coming together.

His painted hands stitched together various colors and shapes, weaving light and dark, red and gold, blue triangles and green stripes, adding strings of beads, a new cloak and a matching red and yellow sash around his waist. Sometimes he stayed up late, stitching and sewing everything together while Terra slept beside him on the couch. One morning she woke up and found Kefka standing in front of a full length mirror, giggling and humming to himself as he admired his new clothes.

He was wearing his usual makeup, with feathers tucked in his hair and Terra's beaded charm dangling from his ponytail. "I look gorgeous!" he said, turning around and smiling at her.

Terra sat up slowly on the couch, her mouth opening in stunned disbelief. She'd seen him assemble his new clothes, piece by piece as he stitched everything together, but now that he was wearing the finished product, with his mismatched boots, red and blue pants, feathers, beads, scarves and makeup, the sight left her at a loss for words. She barely recognized him, and had to ask herself if this clownish apparition was really Kefka.

Kefka struck a pose like a fashion model on the runway, tossing his hair back as he planted his hand on his hip. "Well? What do you think? It's beautiful, isn't it?

"Well..." Terra hesitated as she tried to find the right words.

"Go on, now. Tell me how much you love it. Tell me it's grand! Tell me it unique! Tell me I'm the most marvelous sight you've ever laid eyes on!"

"It's colorful, I'll give you that, Kefka."

Kefka started laughing. He lifted one foot off the floor and spun on tiptoe in a circle in front of the mirror. But the spinning made him dizzy, and he tripped and fell backwards, only to be caught in time by Terra before he hit the floor.

He was like a child, laughing and playing as he showed off his new clothes. He relaxed in her arms, still giggling as he leaned back and gazed up at her. "Thank you, Terra, for giving me the most wonderful gift I ever received."

The little girl smiled, thinking that he was talking about the charm he was wearing in his hair, when in fact he meant something else, something she never would have guessed in a thousand years.

"I'm glad you like it, Kefka," she said, blushing at the compliment. "If you want we could make more charms for your hair. Maybe make different colored ones for different holidays, like red and green for Christmas or - "

"No, no, no. I wasn't talking about that, you silly thing." Kefka smiled a truly wicked smile, chuckling as he curled her hair around her finger. "I'm talking about magic. If it weren't for you I never would have been given this wonderful gift."

"You... You don't like the charm I made?"

"Of course I do." He nodded, his ridiculous feathers bobbing with him. "But there are some things I like even more."


	19. Phantasmagoria

The moon had risen above the horizon when they heard it, the sound of footsteps marching in the distance. The citizens of Albrook looked out their windows, hearing laughter on the wind, and saw a man leading an army of soldiers into the city. Banners were flying high, rippling on the wind, as the red and black insignia of the Gestahlian empire shown in the moonlight. And there was Kefka, a staff in hand and a wide grin on his painted face, as he lead his troops into the city.

He stopped in the center of town, his own private army standing behind him, awaiting his command. A door cracked open, and a man cautiously emerged from his house to see what was going on.

"You there!" Kefka shouted. "I demand to see the mayor of this miserable dump!"

"I-I'm sorry," the man stuttered nervously. "But I don't think h-he's taking visitors now. Unless you're here on official business - "

Kefka brought his staff down hard, striking the butt of the heavy oaken staff against the cobblestone. Sparks erupted as his staff struck the ground, and the unfortunate man who had dared set foot outside his home yelped, leaping back as a shower of green and gold sparks flew in all directions.

"Didn't you hear me? I said bring him to me. Now!"

The man was shaking as he backed away from the crazed magician. He nodded once then shot off down the street. Kefka waited for him to return while a crowd of people began gathering in the street, peering out windows and stepping out into the moonlight. Whispers and murmurs filled the air. A child cried, clutching his mother's dress as he buried his face in the folds of fabric and lace.

Kefka raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder at the child who was sobbing into his mother's dress. There was a sudden flash of light, and before anyone knew what was happening the child fell to ground, dead from a bolt of lightning that struck him in the back.

The crowd gasped, the young woman screamed, falling to her knees beside her son.

"Who are you?" a voice cried out from amongst the crowd of people. "Better yet, what are you? And what have you done to my son?"

Kefka turned around, a wicked smile blossoming on his lips, a smile that was hideously distorted from the makeup he was wearing. "What am I?" He giggled, looking very much like a child that had been possessed by the spirit of an evil clown. "I'm your worst nightmare." With a flick of his wrist he ignited the building across the street, its roof erupting in a sudden explosion of flames.

The townspeople began to panic, and by the time the mayor arrived the building was fully engulfed in flames.

"What is going on here?" The mayor looked at the burning building, his eyes wide with horror. He then looked back at Kefka, who was laughing as embers from the burning building rose on the wind. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Kefka chuckled, amused by the man's ignorance. "Despite what your friend thinks, I am here on official business. I was sent here to order you to surrender your city to the empire. Surrender now, and I may spare your pathetic lives. Refuse and you can watch your precious city burn to the ground."

The mayor gasped. "You... You wouldn't. You can't! It's not possible!"

Kefka cocked his head to the side. 'You think not, eh?" There was another blinding flash, and one by one the buildings on the left side of the street burst into flames.

"Stop! What are you doing?!"

"I'll take that as a 'no'." Kefka signaled his men forward, laughing as the Imperial soldiers stormed the city.

This was the moment he'd been waiting for, the moment when he could finally unleash his magic on the world. He turned around when the sound of screams reached his ears, his painted face illuminated by the flickering firelight as he watched a woman trying to escape a burning building with her three children in tow.

"Where do you think you're going?" Kefka called out, his high-pitched voice laced with a childish whine. "I thought you wanted to play with me." He struck the earth with his staff, and a trail of fire shot across the ground, racing towards the woman and her family. His face split in a wide grin as the youngest of the four children looked down and saw his pant leg catch on fire. The child screamed, and within seconds his entire body was engulfed in flames.

When the townspeople saw what was happening they tried fighting back, brandishing homemade weapons such as pitchforks and torches. Kefka spun on heel, his cloak swirling about his feet as he turned to face them, and tossed his staff into the air, catching it in both hands as it came down. He spun the oaken staff like a baton, conjuring a barrage of fireballs that flew towards the crowd of people.

The townspeople fell back, assaulted by the blistering wave of fire. The mage was laughing again, the soldiers surging forward, raising their swords and killing anyone who stood in their way. One man broke through the crowd, his pitchfork clashing with Kefka's staff in a vain attempt to protect his family from the crazed knight.

Kefka's eyes widened, and a wicked smile spread across his face. "Now that's more like it! It's always more fun when my toys know how to play."

Iron and oak clashed again and again as he drove the man back, meeting him blow for blow. Kefka forced him back against a wall of flames, his body surrounded by a crimson light that spilled onto the streets and lit the dark corners of the alley. His vision blurred, and suddenly the people around him were transformed into the soldiers from his nightmares, the world dissolving around him as he was transported to the world from his dreams.

Kefka gasped, his heart leaping into his throat. He stumbled backwards, looking up as the burning buildings were replaced with the stone walls of the ancient castle. There were dragons and wolves, phoenix, fairies and a magnificent shining unicorn charging the ranks of the soldiers. This wasn't Albrook. This was the battle he'd witnessed time and time again that took place at the ancient castle.

A massive Esper borne aloft on wings of shadow landed on the parapet, its jaws opening wide as it spewed flames into the air. Another Esper swooped down low, snatching a soldier in its talons, the young man's body twisting and writhing, screaming as the creature's claws pierced his flesh. The Esper rose higher into the burning skies, before releasing its cargo into a seething river of lava.

And then he saw it, an Esper astride a white horse riding into battle. It was Odin, brandishing his sword as he cut down his foes, cleaving them in half with a single sweep of his blade. The Esper turned, his sword at Kefka's throat as he roared, "Kill them! Kill them all!"

The words repeated over and over in his head, rising in volume until the warrior's cry exploded like thunder. Kefka couldn't take it anymore, and he screamed, unleashing a blistering wave of heat that set fire to everything within a fifty foot radius. Everything was burning, his throat was raw from screaming, and still the voices pounded against the inside of his head. Everything he touched went up in flames as he ran screaming through the city. He would destroy everything, if it silenced the voices, if it freed him from this torment.

The images around him began to dissolve, the castle walls falling away, crumbling to dust and revealing the blackened ruins of Albrook. There was nothing left but ashes and ruins, with spires of smoke rising towards the heavens.

The mage stumbled, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. He fell to his knees amid the ruins, his trembling fingers scraping the earth, sifting through mounds of ash and dust. He stared at it in disbelief, his mind struggling to take in the overwhelming amount of destruction he'd caused.

_'What have I done? Is this me? Is this really what I've become?'_

He looked up when he heard the sound of laughter echoing in the distance, and saw the sorcerer from his nightmares standing in the street, his body no more than a darkened silhouette against the backdrop of a burning city.

"My, what a lovely little mess we have here. And by mess I mean you, Kefka." The sorcerer stepped forward into the firelight, his face obscured by the hood attached to his green and gold robes. "Are you proud of yourself, Kefka? Are you pleased with what you've done?"

Kefka grit his teeth and growled. "Shut up! Get out of my head! You're not real. You're not! None of this is!"

The sorcerer chuckled, his fingers reaching up to grasp his hood. "Sometimes the nightmares we inhabit are more real than we think, and we don't always have to be asleep to dream." He slowly lowered his hood, and Kefka found himself staring at his own reflection.

The mage screamed, horrified by what he saw. He had literally become his own worst nightmare. The only thing that separated him from this nightmarish incarnation were the shining wings that sprouted from the sorcerer's back. Those would come later, when the world fell into ruin, and all that remained of the first ever Magitek Knight was a bunch of ragged feathers drifting on the wind.

\--------------

Dr. Cid climbed to the top of the observation tower that rose high above the streets of Vector, huffing and puffing as his tired, aching limbs carried him up another flight of stairs. It felt like he had aged tremendously these last few years, and he was unable to keep up with his young companion, who was taking the steps two at a time as she ran ahead of him.

"Celes!" he called out. "Wait for me. I'm not as young as I used to be." He gripped the railing and pulled himself up the steps, then rounded the corner and saw the little girl staring off into the darkness that surrounded them.

They had reached the top of the observation tower, where the winds were blowing cold over the metal railings and icy stairs. It was the dead of night, and although she really shouldn't have been up this late, Celes had insisted that she come with him to the observation tower. He didn't know what she hoped to see up there, or why she decided to come with him in the first place. She knew that tonight was the night Emperor Gestahl had ordered the attack on Albrook, and that the Empire would stop at nothing to take control of the city, even if it meant leaving half the city in ruins before the sun rose at dawn.

Maybe it was her fascination with magic that drew her here, the curious wonder and desire to learn and explore the unknown. He saw it in her eyes whenever he discussed his research with her, which was something he knew he shouldn't be doing. But since she had gotten involved in the care and maintenance of his garden, it was almost impossible to keep her from seeing what he was doing. And he wasn't about to turn her away now that they had formed a close bond, acting like a father and daughter team when they worked together in the greenhouse.

"There. I see it! There's something glowing on the horizon." Celes turned and looked back at Cid. "Hurry up, gramps. You're going to miss everything."

Dr. Cid couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips. "Gramps, huh? Well, that's a new one."

He joined her beside the railing, gazing out into the darkness as the wind whipped strands of his auburn hair into his face. Sure enough, there was something glowing on the horizon, but it was too far away to make out the exact details. It was an eerie light, shining in the darkness and bathing the surrounding hillside with an amber glow. There appeared to be smoke rising from the center of the flickering light, the black clouds just barely visible against the night sky. It took a moment for them to realize what they were seeing, and Celes gasped, her eyes wide as she watched the smoke rising in the night.

Whatever it was she was in hopes of seeing, it certainly wasn't this. They knew that Kefka was adept at using fire magic, but no one ever thought he'd torch the entire city.

\---------------

The soldiers tried dragging him out of the burning city. They tried calming him down, but he was hysterical, laughing and screaming like he was completely out of his mind. It took half a dozen soldiers to drag him off the streets of Albrook and back to their encampment beyond the ridge. It was here that he unleashed his fury upon the soldiers who were trying to hold him down, conjuring a weak jolt of electricity that was just enough to throw them off. He then crawled out of the tent on his hands and knees, looking this way and that for what they didn't know.

"Terra," he muttered under his breath, repeating her name over and over as he scurried through the bushes. "Terra Terra Terra Terra Terra Terra Terra Terra..." He started scraping at the earth with his fingernails, digging and throwing soil every which way like an animal. He turned over a rock. "Terra?" Nothing but ants. Kefka chucked the rock into the bushes, then resumed digging in the dirt until his hands were bloody and sore.

The soldiers were afraid to go after him, but knew that the Emperor would be furious if something happened to his precious mage. Their frightened voices filled the night, whispering and murmuring as they tried to figure out what to do.

"He's disturbed, I think. Look at him."

"I'm not going anywhere near that freak."

"The Emperor will kill us. You know he will."

"I'd rather take my chances with Gestahl than Kefka."

"They're both out of their minds, if you ask me. Why would anyone let him get like that?"

"TERRA!"

Kefka's frantic scream interrupted their conversation, and they turned to see him racing across the open field. They had no choice but to go after him, and by the time they managed to subdue him and bring him back to camp, one soldier was dead and four more were suffering from first degree burns. He continued screaming and thrashing when they hauled him into his tent, until the soldiers were forced to dogpile on top of him, holding him down so he wouldn't escape.

The crazed magician fought like a wild animal, clawing at their faces with his jagged fingernails, his magic depleted and his strength fading fast. He succumbed to exhaustion after several minutes of struggling and fighting, and was asleep before they could even lift him onto his cot and put him to bed for the night.

"Send a message to the Emperor!" said one of the soldiers. "He needs to know what happened here."

"How long do you think it'll take until he recovers?" a second soldier asked.

The first soldier sighed heavily. "I don't know. They say he usually sleeps for half the day once he tires himself out like this."

"Biggs, Wedge! Get in here!"

Two young men came running into the tent, saluting their leader as they stood before the formidable form of General Regulus.

"I want you two to stand guard over him tonight," said Regulus. "Do not let him out of your sight. If he so much as moves a single inch in his sleep, you are to report back to me at once. Is that understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" the soldiers replied.

Regulus nodded. "Good. And for god's sake, men, don't let him get loose in camp! I've seen enough death and destruction to last me a lifetime, and I don't want to see anymore of it tonight."

The General retreated to his tent for a good stiff drink, hoping to drown the memories of what he'd seen in alcohol. It wasn't often that Regulus drank. But after a night like tonight he was going to need something to help him forget the horrific scene he'd witnessed.

Silence fell over the camp as the late hours of the evening slowly passed, with only a few soldiers whispering and glancing towards Kefka's tent. They expected him to come bursting out of the tent any minute now, screaming and hurling flaming projectiles at anyone within range. But even Kefka had his limits, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted nearly fourteen hours before waking up again.

He was shivering and sweating when he woke up later that afternoon, his trembling hands reaching under the cot and removing a doll that he'd hidden before heading off to Albrook. It was his way of keeping it safe, though none of the men in camp had any desire to steal his precious doll. It was the same doll he'd given Terra, the one that she rejected in favor of her plush moogle. He was still carrying around with him, despite the fact that he was a grown man who was now twenty-six years old.

He lay on his side for several minutes, shivering and shaking, clutching the doll and mumbling incoherently. He was more out of it than usual that morning, seeing images from his dreams as the green haired Queen of the ancient castle danced before his very eyes. Her movements were like that of a puppet on strings, a human marionette controlled by invisible strings, dancing and moving in the shadows, with thin slivers of light playing across her face.

A simpering smile spread across his face, and he laughed. But it wasn't his usual insane cackle. Kefka was too tired to produce more than a broken, half-hearted chuckle, the madness clearly present in his voice as he squeezed his doll and giggled. The two soldiers on either side of him stared at him in confusion. They were unable to see what he was seeing, and had no clue as to why he was laughing as he stared off into space.

"Pretty puppet," he murmured, a wide grin spreading from ear to ear. "Yes, I think you will do nicely, my precious pet. I want you to dance for me so that we will never be apart again."


	20. Regression

One by one the years slowly passed. Terra was growing older, maturing into a lovely young lady as the months blossomed into years. And all the while Kefka seemed to be regressing to the mentality of a child. He started collecting dolls, until he had so many of them that you couldn't look in his bedroom without seeing one of his garishly painted creations lining every corner of the room. He had dolls on his bookshelf, dolls on his desk and windowsill. He even had a few of them sitting in the corner, and two or three of them strewn across the floor.

When he was upset he would set his dolls on fire, ripping their limbs off and laughing as he watched them burn. But there was one doll he favored above all others, one that he refused to burn and dismember. It was the doll he'd given Terra, the one that reminded him of her. It was precious to him, and he was often seen carrying it around the palace, either tucked under his arm or swinging it at his side as he skipped down the hall.

The soldiers gave him odd looks as he walked out of his tent one morning, with his doll tucked under his arm and a polka dot cloth soaked in some sort of liquid held over his mouth and nose. He paused, inhaling the smell of the liquid that dripped from the cloth and trickled down his hand.

The cloth was soaked in ether, a wondrous liquid invented by Dr. Cid after years of experimenting with the rose from Thamasa. He discovered a way to create a mixture derived from plants that helped combat the exhaustion and fatigue Kefka experienced after using up all his magic. The soldiers had mixed feelings about this invention. On one hand they were happy because it meant that Kefka could keep fighting without collapsing on the battlefield when he ran out of magic. All he had to do was drink some of the potent blue liquid and has energy would be restored. But it also meant that they didn't get a fourteen hour break from his insanity when he fell asleep after fighting.

Kefka glared at the soldiers from behind the wad of dripping fabric. His eyes narrowed as he spied a young soldier conversing with the other members of his troop. "You there!" he snapped, barking out orders at the unfortunate soldier. "Get your sorry ass over here and polish my boots. I want them to shine like marble in the midday sun."

"Yes, sir!" the soldier replied. "Right away, sir!"

The mage collapsed into a chair beside his tent, fanning himself with the wet cloth. "Miserable little pissant," he grumbled. "Look at them all. There's a pissant, and there's a pissant, and there's another pissant." He was talking to himself again, which was another one of the unusual quirks the soldiers had to get used to now that he'd been promoted to General and was in charge of his own troops.

Much had changed during the last four years. Albrook and Tzen had fallen under the command of the empire, thanks to their newly appointed General Kefka. Dr. Cid was making advances in his research, and was now on the verge of perfecting the infusion process. And along with his discovery of using plant extracts to create an energy restoring ether, he had also created a formula to fuel the Magitek armor, giving rise to the first ever fully functional, magically enhanced machines of war, machines that Kefka enjoyed testing and playing with in his spare time.

"Uh, excuse me, sir. Pardon me for asking, sir, but why are you carrying around that wet cloth?" asked the soldier to his left. "I thought you were supposed to drink that stuff, not smell it."

Kefka glared at the soldier, his menacing stare causing the man to take several steps back, trembling, as he cowered in fear before the General. "I can do whatever I want with it! It just so happens that I like the smell of it, and the aroma helps get rid of my headache. Not that it's any of your business, you nosy little shit." He snapped his fingers, and the soldier's clothing suddenly burst into flames. "Let that be a lesson to never question my actions!" Kefka shouted, as the soldier ran screaming from the encampment and dove into the nearby river. "The next time you question me I'll gut you and roast your entrails over the campfire!"

One by one the soldiers began to move away from him. They'd seen enough of his violent outbursts to know better than to upset the Emperor's precious mage. It was because of his less than pleasant attitude that General Regulus had been forced to take an early retirement, with Kefka stepping in to take his place. When asked why the former General had decided to retire, Emperor Gestahl said it was because he wanted to take time off to spend with his family. This sent Kefka into a fit of raucous laughter, and he leaned forward in his seat and shouted, "More like he wanted to spend time with his remaining limbs!" He then laughed so hard that he fell out of his chair and onto the floor.

These days it was getting more and more difficult for Gestahl to cover up Kefka's acts of violence. According to sources within the empire, General Regulus had an argument with Kefka regarding the empire's use of magic to enhance their soldiers. He refused to become part of the Magitek Knight program, saying that he and his son wanted no part in these "inhuman experiments", as he called it.

Kefka became enraged when Regulus called him a monster, and lashed out at the General, striking him down with a bolt of lightning that sent him flying backwards into one of the machines that churned out parts for the Magitek armor. His jacket got caught in the conveyer belt, and by the time the workers shut the machines off, the damage had already been done, with Kefka laughing as they carried out what was left of Leo's father.

While the Emperor worked to cover up what Kefka had done, Dr. Cid was busy in his greenhouse, his blond assistant helping him with his research. While not officially an assistant, the now thirteen year old Celes Chere had become attached to the scientist, seeing him as a father figure and a substitue for her deceased parents. They had bonded over their love of plants, growing closer together as the years passed.

One morning Cid called her into the greenhouse, saying that he had a present for her. It was his Thamasain rose. He had named the rose after her, and now he was going to give it to her as a gift.

"This rose is special, Celes. Just like you are. I never would have come this far in my research if it weren't for you. Consider it a token of my gratitude. And thanks to you, I now have everything I need to complete my research. You're the one who gave me the idea to start experimenting on plants instead of people, and the information I've gathered throughout the years should be enough to modify the infusion process."

Celes was pleasantly surprised to see that he was giving her his favorite rose. She was also a little confused. To the best of her knowledge, the only thing she did was keep him company and water the plants. She didn't see how watering the plants and helping him with his garden could have resulted in this.

She watched the rose shimmering in the late afternoon sunlight, her arms folded as she leaned against the table. "I don't understand. How did I help you come to the conclusion that you needed to experiment on plants? What does any of this have to do with me?"

"It was when you told me that you thought magic was good, and that it wasn't as bad as Leo said it was. It made me wonder why the magic soured when it entered Kefka's bloodstream. Because that's exactly what happened, Celes. It soured the moment he was injected with it. I asked myself why. How could something that was essentially the same in two people cause one person to have such severe reactions? So I started experimenting with plants, and it was then that I discovered a component that binds itself to the cells of individuals who've been artificially infused with magic."

He sighed heavily and sat down in the chair beside the table. He looked worn and weary, older perhaps, than a man his age should look. "I started paying closer attention to Kefka, and performed more extensive testing on him. When I could get him to hold still, that is. I found that magic is the same no matter where it comes from, and that plants infused with magic experienced the same unpleasant side effects that he did."

Celes snorted. "You mean they went mad?" She imagined a rose bush that was singing and swaying to the rhythm of the music Leo liked to play, much like Kefka when he went on one of his mad dancing sprees throughout the palace. "How can you tell if a plant has gone nuts?"

Cid chuckled at her choice of words. "No, Celes, they didn't go mad. When the binding agent adhered to the plant's cells, the plant got sick. Now I know Kefka doesn't realize it, but during the last few infusions, I removed the binding agent from the Esper magic. Without it he experienced very few side effects. It was almost like he'd never been given an infusion in the first place.

"It wasn't long until I discovered that Terra possesses a naturally occurring protein in her blood which dissolves the binding agent, preventing it from wrecking havoc on the brain and nervous system. I suspect she inherited it from her father. What's troubling is that the binding agent has a tendency to attach itself to the subject's brain cells. Once it adheres to the brain, it sours and begins to rot, leaving behind traces of decaying material. This material gradually builds up over time, causing slow deterioration of the subject's mental faculties. That is why Kefka went insane. And I believe that removing the binding agent is all it will take to correct the error in the infusion process."

"But how can you be sure about that?" Celes doubted that it was really that simple, and wondered if it would be enough to stop people from turning into monsters like Kefka. "You haven't tried it on anyone, so you don't know for sure if it'll work."

"No, I have not. However I have tried it on several plants, and without the binding agent the plants stopped getting sick every time I injected them with magic. All I need is a willing participant so I can start the process over again, but this time I'm going to get it right. I wouldn't even try it if I weren't confident that it'll work this time."

There was a long pause, the both of them gazing into each other's eyes as Celes realized what he was saying.

"Celes," he murmured. "I won't ask you to do it. I won't ask you to put yourself through that. The choice is yours. I've seen your interest in magic. I've seen you watching Terra when she and Kefka spar with each other. But I won't force you to go through with it."

It was true. Celes had been fascinated with magic ever since Leo started telling her stories about the War of the Magi. She'd spent several hours watching Terra and Kefka when they had their training sessions, her face illuminated by flashes of red and green light as she gazed at them in wonder. She wanted to fly like they did. She wanted to summon the elements, and create beautiful works of art using snow and ice. And as she watched, she realized that neither one of them were adept at using ice magic. Kefka was the master of fire, and Terra used a mixture of fire and electricity, but they rarely used ice element magic during their training.

Sometimes when it snowed and a layer of frost formed on the windows, Celes would press her hand against the glass and imagine there were ice crystals forming beneath her fingers, spreading across the glass and creating shimmering patterns on the widow. There was no denying the fact that she wanted what they had. But was she ready to make such a life changing decision? Because even if she didn't go insane, her life would never be the same again. She would have magic, she would be one of them, a Magitek Knight who was capable of wielding the elements in battle. And that meant joining the military and working for the empire. Not that she was opposed to the idea. But still, it was a lot to think about.

"Take your time, Celes. I want this to be your decision, not mine. The Emperor has been pushing me to look for volunteers so I can start infusing soldiers with magic. But I've learned from my mistakes, and I refused to accept volunteers until I was sure this new process wouldn't turn people into monsters. He's especially interested in the creation of Rune Knights. And if this process I've created is a success, there will soon be a large number of magic infused soldiers parading around Vector."

"Rune Knighs?" This peaked the young girl's curiosity. "What are Rune Knights? How are they different from regular Magitek Knights?"

"I'd rather not say. If you're going to give this serious consideration, then you've already got more than enough to think about. I'll explain everything to you later if you decide to go through with this."

Celes was quiet. She honestly didn't know what to think. She'd seen what happened to Kefka, and knew that there was a chance the same thing could happen to her. Humans weren't supposed to have this kind of power, and any attempt at infusing humans with the kind of power Terra had always carried risks.

She watched the rose a second longer, then turned to him, an idea blossoming in her mind. "Is it possible for someone to be trained in the art of magic and only use one element?"

Her question took him by surprise, and it took him a moment to find his voice. "Yes, I think so. Why do you ask?"

"Because I want to learn how to use ice magic. I've seen what Kefka can do, burning down cities and setting people on fire. If I'm going to learn magic, I don't want to have the same kind of power he has. I want to use magic to make beautiful things, while at the same time showing people how strong the forces of nature can be."

"Are you sure about that? Because if you decide to go through with this, there is no going back. You will be changed forever, and nothing will ever be the same again."

Celes nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. I know I want this, I just don't want the same kind of destructive abilities he has."

\-------------------

Kefka returned to the empire two weeks later, eager to see how things were progressing in the Magitek Research Facility. They had just finished the latest batch of new and improved armor, and were checking the machines to make sure they had been assembled properly when he walked into the factory.

His mouth fell open in shock as he gazed up at the machine that loomed overhead like some sort of primordial beast. Kefka had seen the prototype armor, and even tried it out a few times once Cid had given him permission to take it for a test drive. But it was nothing compared to the size of this monstrosity.

The metal beast rose fifteen feet into the air, its slick, smooth body painted black with golden lines along its massive jaws, forming intricate patterns and designs that snaked across its back. It was draconian in shape, with small wings protruding from its shoulder blades. It lacked arms, but its legs were thick and sturdy, which helped support its massive weight and large head.

Dr. Cid turned to Kefka. "So, what do you think? It's modeled after one of the Espers we captured. I figured that since we're recreating the Espers using advanced weapons and technology, it made sense to base the design off an actual living creature." He stroked his mustache as he looked up at the lumbering hunk of blackened metal. "Figuring out its design was the easy part. But coming up with the correct formula for powering these machines was much more difficult. It takes a great deal of magic to power them, and for a while I couldn't get the ratio correct. But after some tinkering around I found that - "

He was interrupted by a loud, shrill scream as Kefka nearly exploded with joy and excitement.

"You built me a brand new toy!" he exclaimed. Kefka scurried over to the machine, and began to lovingly caress the metal frame that formed the machine's left foot. "Just imagine the damage we can do when we set this thing loose on Maranda." He clenched his fists, and was overcome with a sudden fit of laughter. Before Cid could stop him, he was climbing up the side of the metallic beast and making his way towards the driver's seat, which was located behind machine's head at the back of its neck.

"Kefka, wait! That's not a toy!"

"Shut up!" Kefka shouted, situating himself in the driver's seat. "I know what I'm doing." He giggled like a school girl when he saw the buttons that lined the control panel, and squealed with delight at the new features that had been added to the armor. There were buttons that fired beams of fire, electricity and ice, and buttons that fired missiles and lasers. The old models weren't capable of using magic, and could only fire missiles to attack.

He looked for the main lever that controlled the machine, and was pleased to see that it was still located to his right, directly in line with his hand for easy access. A series of wicked snickers and giggles escaped his lips as his fingers closed around the silver lever. There was nothing he loved more than being given a new toy to play with, especially when that toy was a weapon of mass destruction. Kefka viewed everything as either an object to be played with or destroyed. And as far as he was concerned, there wasn't much difference between the two. They were all there for his amusement, and when they no longer served a purpose he would destroy them and go in search of the next new toy to keep him entertained.

Kefka was just about to start up the Magitek armor when he looked down and realized that something was wrong. Within seconds an ear splitting screech sliced through the air, and he screamed, "I'm too short to reach the pedals! What good is a new toy if I can't even play with it?"

One of the engineers on the ground covered his hand with his mouth, fighting not to laugh at Kefka's comment that he was too short to reach the pedals.

"Try the red lever on your left," Cid called out. "I redesigned the armor so that you can adjust the seat, Kefka. That should make it possible for you to reach the pedals."

The mage grumbled and cursed under his breath, leaning over and scanning the buttons, levers and dials to his left. When he found the correct one he let out a shriek as the seat flew backwards, his eyes wide as he lay in a reclined position on his back. He stared up at the ceiling, blinking in confusion as he tried to figure out what had gone wrong.

"Kefka?" Cid was getting worried. Kefka was too quiet, and that was never a good thing.

The mage tried pushing the lever forward then back, and was relieved when the seat inched forward then sunk down towards the floor, enabling him to reach the pedals. A deafening roar filled the air as Kefka started the machine, and the floor beneath them began to vibrate as the engine came to life. The eyes located towards the front of the machine lit up, and the metallic beast reared up and roared, its cries merging with the sound of Kefka's wild, insane laughter.

"Why did I tell him where the lever is?" Cid groaned. "Now he's going to destroy the entire factory." But instead of bursting through the wall and going on a rampage through the city, Kefka continued to laugh as the machine roared and spewed bright blue light from its massive jaws. The light struck the southern wall, coating it with an impenetrable sheet of ice.

"Ew, ice!" Kefka frowned, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "I hate ice!" He was just about to press another button when thought he heard Cid's voice over the roar of the engine. He peered over the side of the machine and saw the doctor waving his arms. Kefka sighed, then pulled back a lever and pushed a series of buttons, causing the Magitek armor to crouch down so that he was mere feet above the doctor.

He glared at Cid, the machine's glowing eyes fixing him with a deadly stare. The doctor was shaking with fear as Kefka positioned the machine's gaping jaws directly in front of him. It was like staring into the jaws of death, and all Kefka had to do was flip a switch to change the armor's element from ice to fire.

"Kefka, please, shut that thing off! This isn't the time or place to be playing with it!"

The mage hesitated before returning the armored suit to its original position, then pressed a button to power down the enormous machine. Dr. Cid sighed with relief and began to relax as Kefka climbed out of the driver's seat. He sincerely hoped that Celes didn't turn out the same way Kefka did. He was getting too old to deal with this, and he was liable to have a heart attack the next time Kefka pulled another stunt like that.


	21. Rune Knight

It wasn't going to be the same. Celes wasn't going to turn out like Kefka. He kept telling himself that over and over, trying to convince himself that everything was going to be alright. But it didn't stop his hands from shaking as he adjusted the IV bottle that hung from the stand beside the bed.

Kefka didn't know that Dr. Cid was in the process of creating another Magitek Knight. He didn't know about the changes that had been made in the infusion process, or that Celes would be the first ever Rune Knight. Dr. Cid decided to keep everything a secret, waiting until the time was right to tell him what he'd done. But how long could he keep it a secret? And what sort of reaction would Kefka have when he discovered that he wasn't the only magic infused warrior the empire had at its disposal? Kefka knew the Emperor had plans for creating more Magitek Knights, but for years he'd been the only one in all of existence. He was special, and he loved the attention he got from Gestahl, who continued to spoil him and give him everything he wanted.

But what if there was another? What if he wasn't the only one? And what if this newly created knight had access to spells and abilties that he couldn't use? All these questions and more swirled through Cid's head, his thoughts shifting from one question to the next. But now was not the time for that. He had to focus on the girl beside him, making sure her vitals were stable as he gradually increased the amount anesthetic flowing through the tube in her arm.

If his experience with Kefka had taught him anything, it was that infusion patients often experienced the worst side effects during the first twenty minutes following the infusion. And although the chances of her having serious side effects had been significantly reduced, he decided it was best to put her to sleep using a form of general anesthetic. This would allow her to sleep off the worst of it, and by the time she woke up it would all be over and she could begin the recovery process.

Knowing that she could sleep through the worst of it helped ease his mind. But there was still that nagging sensation in the back of his mind that told him this was wrong. He worried that she would become a heartless monster, which was exactly what Gestahl wanted her to be. The Emperor had made it very clear that he thought that Kefka was a success, and all because he wanted someone who had no regard for human life, someone who would gladly slay hundreds of innocent men, women and children. This made him wonder if Gestahl would reject Celes in favor of Kefka, and possibly see her as a failure due to her lack of interest in death and destruction.

Cid inhaled slowly, taking a deep breath as he willed himself to remain calm. He'd removed the binding agent from the Esper blood, separating the magic from the harmful agents that had caused Kefka's illness. Without the binding agent in the siltlike residue, he could skip the weekly injections and start by giving her blood transfusions, therefore cutting the process in half with less side effects than when he experimented on Kefka.

"Kefka isn't going to like this," he muttered, speaking more to himself than anyone in the room. "If he finds out that Celes had it easier than he did, he's going to throw one hell of a fit and end up killing everyone within a five hundred mile radius."

He sat down in a chair beside the bed, watching her, waiting to see what kind of reaction she would have when she woke up. She would be groggy and disoriented upon waking up from the anesthetic, but that was the least of his concerns. Because no matter how many times he told himself that she would be alright, no matter how many times he checked the readouts on the monitor, glanced at the clock then flipped through his notes time and time again, looking to make sure he hadn't made any mistakes, he was still worried about her. He worried because he cared about her, and seeing her go through this was like seeing his own child in the hospital.

\--------------

She lay still for several minutes, her vision blurred and her mind adrift in a haze of pain and confusion. She didn't know where she was, and she didn't recognize the voice that was speaking to her when she opened her eyes. There was a mild burning sensation in her chest, her blood tingling with essence of magic she'd absorbed during the infusion.

She cried out, struggling against the person who was trying to hold her down. Her chest rose and fell with shallow, rapid breaths, her pulse accelerated as her body fought to contain the overwhelming power that surged through her blood. And just like that her vision cleared, and she suddenly remembered where she was.

It was Cid talking to her, his fingers closing around her wrists as he held her down in bed.

"Calm down, Celes. You're hyperventilating. Just take a few deep breaths and relax. It should all be over in a minute."

Celes took a deep breath and groaned. She was sick to her stomach, and it didn't help that the room was spinning like an out of control merry-go-round. The waves of nausea kept coming and going, each one stronger than the last. With it came an awful, stabbing pain in the pit of her stomach, but all of this was nothing compared to the horror Kefka experienced, and within a half hour or so the worst of it had passed, leaving her sweating and exhausted as though she had just experienced a severe bought of the flu.

She gasped, clutching his hand as she looked over at him. She was shivering, her entire body drenched in sweat from head to toe. Her hair was wet with perspiration, with long, blond strands sticking to her face and neck. It felt as though she had been doused with a bucket of ice water, her breath catching in her chest as she tried to overcome the shock from the sudden change in temperature.

"It's alright, Celes. I'm here. Everything is going to be fine." He held her hand in both of hers, and felt the cold radiating off her skin. The cold was so intense that it was stinging his hand, and when he released her he found that the palm of his hand was red and sore.

Celes gripped the railing on the side of the bed, her fingers leaving behind traces of frost on the metal railing as she tried using it to pull herself into a sitting position. But a sudden wave of dizziness made the room lurch sideways, and she fell back against the mound of pillows on the bed.

"Don't try moving around too much," Cid told her. "There's a lot of magic circulating through your bloodstream, and it's going to take time for your body to get used to the changes it will undergo as part of the infusion process. You need to take it easy, Celes. Rest, and don't try moving around too much unless you absolutely have to."

"You think I'm going anywhere like this?" she groaned, her words slurring together as though she'd had a bit too much to drink. Even if she felt like moving she couldn't have gotten very far, not while her whole body was shaking like a leaf and she could hardly tell up from down. All she wanted to go to sleep, but she was shivering so hard her body couldn't relax enough to fall asleep. It would be some time before the cold chill finally passed, allowing her to rest and recover from everything she'd been through.

\----------------

Celes lost ten pounds during the next two weeks, due to the persistent nausea and a loss of appetite. She didn't suffer from migraines, seizures, tremors or black outs the way Kefka did, but was often plagued with cold chills and dizzy spells. Dr. Cid told her to keep everything a secret from Terra, at least for a couple of months during the early stages of the experiment. He needed time to study her and see what sort of reaction she would have, and he didn't need Kefka throwing a fit if he found out through Terra that there was another Magitek Knight in the palace.

"But how am I supposed to learn how to use magic if I don't have someone to teach me how it's done?" asked Celes. "I'm not about to walk up to Kefka and ask him how he does it. And Terra's the only other person who can use magic."

"You shouldn't worry about that right now," said Cid. "When Kefka was in the transition phase, he had his first bought of accidental magic after falling in a fountain. That took place approximately two and a half months after the infusions began, and its only been a month since your first infusion. You should let it happen naturally, Celes, and not try to force it to happen before you're ready to start using magic."

Celes huffed out an irritated sigh. She was getting tired of being told what to do. If she wanted to use magic and couldn't go to Terra or Kefka for lessons, then she would figure it out on her own. She didn't need their help anyway. All she had to do was remember what she'd seen them do during their training sessions, then try to copy what they did.

She made her way downstairs to the palace kitchens, opened the door and headed straight for the refrigerator. She filled a glass with ice water, then sat down at the kitchen table with the glass directly in front of her. She stared at it for several seconds, trying to see if she could make the water freeze, but nothing happened. Maybe she was supposed to speak some sort of incantation. Terra and Kefka were often shouting things like 'Fira' and 'Thunder' when they fought each other. But neither one of them were skilled at using ice magic, and if Kefka had ever spoken the incantation for conjuring ice, she didn't remember what it was.

Celes closed her eyes, folded her arms across the table, and rested her chin on her arm. She remembered the last time Terra and Kefka were sparring with each other in the training room. She started watching their training sessions not long after Terra had used Cure to heal the scrape on her knee. Terra told her everything, and when Kefka had recovered enough to resume training, Celes would follow them and wait in the wings, watching as bright flashes of fire and electricity illuminated the air around them, until it shimmered with dancing waves of colors and light.

There was no denying that Kefka was a master of fire. It was a truly terrifying sight, his eyes gleaming as his body was surrounded with a whirlwind of fire. What was even more terrifying was his laugh, that cold, cruel sound, completely devoid of any sort of joy or emotion. It was a terrible sound that lingered long after he'd stopped laughing. And that face, that hideous mask of evil clown makeup combined with the echoing screech that was his obnoxious voice, it was enough to give someone nightmares, and she shuddered at the thought of that wicked man and his horrendous laughter.

Some people speculated that he'd been turned into a monster, and that the infusions were making him devolve into some sort of primal, heartless beast. Even Terra had said that she felt he wasn't human anymore. Celes wondered how that was possible, and if it were true, what was he becoming? Would the same thing happen to her?

Celes opened her eyes, and saw that the glass of water still hadn't frozen. "What am doing wrong?" she muttered, frowning at the glass of water. "Stupid thing. I know I can do this. I just have to concentrate."

She could feel the cold radiating off the glass of ice water, and tried imagining the same kind of cold emanating from her skin. Little by little she began to feel a sort of pressure building in her chest. Her hands were getting colder, the temperature around her dropping by several degrees as the energy continued to build inside her. A faint bluish glow surrounded her fingertips, but the moment she realized what was happening she lost her focus, and the light faded in an instant. She'd gotten so excited that it broke her concentration, and she swore under her breath, cursing her lack of skill and concentration.

By now the air around her had gotten so cold that each exhalation of breath resulted in a small puff of steam. She could see her own breath steaming in the sunlight, just like it would on a cold December morning. Celes took a deep breath, and tried willing the energy she felt back into the palms of her hands. The temperature of the air continued to drop, the cold prickling her skin as ice crystals started forming beneath the surface of her skin. A smile spread across her face, and suddenly she found herself acting without conscious thought as an incantation formed on her lips. Flakes of snow materialized in the air, falling onto her hair and shoulders as condensation started forming on the sides of the glass.

Within a matter of seconds the water turned to slush, the glass cracking as the water continued to freeze and expand. The next thing she knew the glass had completely shattered, startling the blond teen as water and chunks of ice spilled across the table.

Celes yelped and nearly flew out of her seat. She hadn't thought about the glass breaking when she set out to test her abilities. Her heart was still racing from the excitement of what she'd done when she heard someone say her name, and looked up to see Cid standing in the doorway, staring at her in disbelief.

A moment of silence passed between them, the both of them staring at each other from across the room.

"Celes," he breathed. "You did it! My goodness, you actually did it!" A grin slowly spread across his face, and Celes smiled, laughing as she leapt out of the chair and ran towards him. "

"I know, right? Sorry about the mess, though."

"Not to worry." Cid brushed thesnowflakes off her shoulders. "Good heavens. You're completely covered in snow." He was beaming with pride, feeling very much like a proud father whose daughter had just spoken her first word or learned how to drive. "You did good, Celes. I'm proud of you. But you shouldn't do that where Kefka can see you. We have to keep this a secret for as long as possible. That means no using magic anywhere he might see you. Only use it in the lab or in the privacy of your room."

Celes frowned, her joy evaporating in an instant as he gave her his usual speech about keeping her magic a secret. "He's going to find out about it eventually. I'd rather face him now and be done with it then drag this out for months on end." A cold chill ran down her spine, and she shivered, rubbing her hands together in an effort to restore the circulation in her fingers. She looked at him and sighed. "I can't feel my fingers."

"Let me see your hands." It wasn't unusual for magic users to have accidents during the first few months they were learning how to cast spells. Cid still remembered the time Kefka burned his hands after the accident in the testing room, and it wouldn't surprise him if Celes experienced her fair share of accidents while she was in training.

A brief examination revealed signs of frostbite on her fingers. Her palms were red, and her fingertips were numb from the cold. He brought her over to the sink, filling it with lukewarm water and telling her to submerge her hands in the water.

Celes was quiet while they waited for her hands to warm up. After several minutes had passed in silence, Cid looked at her and said, "You know I'm only telling you this because I care about you. You've been like a daughter to me, and I don't want to see you get hurt. Don't get me wrong, I'm impressed with what you've done. But Kefka has been doing this longer than you have. His magic is greater than anything I ever could have imagined. Never underestimate him, Celes. I want you to remember that."

Her expression softened, and she lifted a hand out of the water, examining it closely as she flexed her fingers. "I won't, gramps. But I'm not going to hide from him like some scared little kid. I'll work on getting stronger, and I'll learn how to protect myself. Because the last thing I want is to be some damsel in distress that everyone has to rescue and protect. That's not me. That's not who I am. And if the time comes that I do have to fight him, I'm going to be ready."


	22. Feathers

While Cid was with Celes in the palace kitchens, Kefka had wandered downstairs and was now making his way towards the holding chamber where the Espers were kept.

He anxiously fiddled with the hem of his cloak as he approached the tanks filled with green, glowing liquid. He could hear the Espers calling him, their voices penetrating the thick glass that surrounded their fragile bodies. Kefka let go of his cloak, then reached around to tug at the fabric of his shirt, his nails digging into the layer of scarves that trailed out behind him. His back was constantly itching. Another side effect of those damn infusions, he thought, as he backed into the doorway and tried rubbing his back against the doorframe.

For months people had whispered and pointed fingers at him when he passed. They called him a monster, and said that he was nothing more than a primitive, vicious, soul-sucking beast.

'They don't know how right they are,' he thought, his back aching as he felt the weight of phantom wings tugging at his skin.

It had been six years since they started experimenting on him. And while Celes' journey had only just begun, Kefka was in the process of something new and unexpected brought on from years of experimental testing. He was having pain in his upper back that radiated out through his shoulder blades. His skin itched, his muscles ached, and there were times when it felt like wings were trying break through the surface of his skin.

When he flexed the muscles between his shoulder blades, the phantom wings moved. But even if they were real, they weren't large enough to sustain flight. They were small, not even a foot across. And although he couldn't see them when he gazed at his reflection, the image that formed in his mind's eye told him that they were covered in a layer of soft, downy feathers.

_"Kefka."_

Another voice, this one calling to him from within a tank containing a large, bluish-green Esper.

_"Come closer, my child. Look into my eyes and see what you will become."_

Years ago he would have run from the creature who told him to come forward, run and hide, like he had done when they were traveling to Figaro and he thought he saw Leviathan in the ocean. But he wasn't afraid of them anymore. He knew there was no point in trying to defy these creatures, and that sooner or later he would become one of them.

Slowly, step by step and inch by inch, he made his way towards the tank containing the semiconscious Esper. His hand made contact with the glass, feeling the intense cold that radiated off its surface. It made him shiver, sending chills down his spine as he gazed at the creature floating in the tank, his face illuminated by the pale light shining overhead.

An oxygen mask covered the creature's mouth and nose, allowing it to breathe as it floated in the container filled with shimmering, emerald green fluid. Wires were connected to its arms, chest and head, with tubes protruding from needles inserted under its skin. Every now and then the creature would twitch, its muscles spasming in silent screams of agony.

He saw himself in this creature, its very essence merged with his own. This is what they'd been feeding him, the life blood of this pale beast, its once vibrant mane and luxurious pelt now a faded remnant of its former glory. This creature, and countless others, were doomed to the same fate, left to rot in these tanks until their bodies expired, their carcasses thrown out on the hillside where buzzards gorged themselves on their decaying flesh. And as its body withered, Kefka grew stronger. He could feel the Esper's heart beating in his chest, its voice echoing in his mind. Each dying breath and painful spasm was a ripple that spread across the surface of the water, reaching him through the glass. He could feel its every movement crawling beneath his skin, his wings quivering, mirroring the motions of this dying creature.

Kefka gazed at the captive Esper, his own reflection staring back on the surface of the glass, distorting his view of the creature inside the tank. He blinked, his breath caught in his chest, and suddenly he saw himself inside the tank, ensared by wires and held captive behind the wall of glass. He was a prisoner in his own body, trapped within the confines of a diseased mind that longed for death and destruction. It was no surprise that he now bore a resemblance to each and every one of these ancient creatures, with feathers and claws and every color of the rainbow adorning his lean frame.

The Esper twitched, once, twice, then opened its eyes. A blinding flash lit the room, and suddenly his mind was flooded a series of images, revealing a world in which the destruction of the past embraced the world in the future.

Kefka saw himself in a ruined land of desolation, the crumbling remains of an ancient castle looming in the distance, its broken form no more than a silhouette on the horizon, a dark shape against a sky on fire with all the colors of a dying phoenix. He had risen above them all, his wings shining like the sun. The warmth of the sun caressed his skin, the rising wind ruffling the feathers on his wings, and he laughed, looking down at the teenaged girl below him, her face hidden in shadow as she bowed her head.

"What's wrong? Too afraid to face the ultimate god of destruction?" Kefka grinned, feeling the power of the Warring Triad coursing through his veins. This was the power he had sought from the very beginning, and with it came the ability the free himself from the confines of a body that had succumbed to madness and disease.

"I can't... I can't even look at you," she said, keeping her back to him as she spoke. "I wish I'd never seen what you've become."

Kefka giggled, dancing gleefully atop a pile of rubble, when suddenly he was caught off guard by a flash of silver, a blade shining in the sun, and a familiar voice rent the air, screaming as a sword was plunged into his abdomen.

He gasped, falling forward onto his knees as drops of crimson spilled onto the dry, parched earth. "How dare you? You filthy, rotten, spoiled little brat!"

She was standing over him, his vision fading as her voice echoed in his mind. "Leo was right. This kind of power only breeds violence and destruction. It's time we put a stop to this, Kefka. We won't stand back and let you destroy everything."

The vision ended just as soon as it began. Kefka stumbled and fell backwards onto the floor. He sat there, trembling and staring at his reflection in the glass. The Esper gasped, its breath rattling in its chest, and charged at him, throwing itself at the glass. Kefka screamed and backed away from the tank, scurrying across the floor on his hands and knees. He hadn't gone far when another Esper awoke from its near death state of suspended animation, its scarlet eyes gleaming in the darkness of the dimly lit room. One by one the Espers were waking up , howling and thrashing in their containment vessels. They began throwing themselves at the glass, trying to break free from their prison.

Everywhere he looked the Espers were screaming and writhing, clawing at the glass, pounding on its surface, swinging heavy tails or lashing out with wings and paws. Kefka tried to run, the containment vessels exploding around him in a shower of liquid and broken glass. Espers emerged from the wreckage of their vessels, the pale fluid cascading onto the floor, washing over his boots as he backed into a corner, cowering on the floor as the Espers surrounded him.

There was no where left to run, no way out unless he tried using magic to defend himself. And even then there was no guarantee that he would escape. He tried focusing on the warmth pooling in the palm of his hand, spreading through his fingers as he prepared to conjure a ball of fire. But the incantation died in his throat, changing into a scream as a set of golden claws pierced his flesh, sinking deep into his left shoulder.

"Calm down, Kefka. It's alright. It's only me. I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax. Everything is fine now."

At first he didn't see her for what she was. He didn't see a teenaged girl with dark curls the color of lush green grass. Instead he saw a creature whose wild hair cascaded down her back, shining with vibrant shades of lavender and white. These colors matched the color of the aura surrounding her, as a soft, gentle light radiated outwards, piercing the darkness and filling him with a sense of calm.

"It's alright," she said again. "You need to calm down before you have another accident with your magic."

The mage looked up and saw the worried face of Terra Branford gazing down at him. He blinked and stared at her, his chest heaving as he fought to bring his racing heart back under control. The Espers were still asleep in their containment vessels. None of them had escaped. It had was nothing more than a sick joke his mind had played on him, making him see things that weren't really there. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened, and he doubted if it would be the last.

"Are you okay?" asked Terra, looking at him with concern as he curled in a ball on his side. He shook his head, trying to remember where he was before blacking out and waking up on the floor of Cid's laboratory. The last thing he remembered was seeing the Esper in its tank, forcefully slamming its body against the glass wall. And then suddenly she was there, kneeling before him in the darkness of the dimly lit room.

Terra sat down on the floor beside him, taking his hand in both of hers. "Kefka, please, tell me what's wrong. Let me help you."

"These things..." Kefka looked up at the numerous Espers that filled the containment vessels. "I feel as though I'm becoming one of them." He looked back at her, his eyes wide and his body trembling. "No one believes me. They tell me I'm going mad. But I can feel it. I know that it won't be long until I turn into one of those things. Only a matter of time," he muttered. He started giggling, his eyes darting from one fluid filled tank to the next. "Only a matter of time, yes yes, I know. But they never listen to me. None of them do. And I hate hate hate hate hate hate every last one of them."

"Stop it." She squeezed his hand, trying to get him to focus on her so he'd calm down. "You're scaring me. I don't like it when you talk like that."

Kefka sighed wearily, his shoulders sinking as he slid down the wall. "I'm sorry," he apologized, wiping sweat off his face with the back of his hand. "Sometimes I don't... I can't think straight anymore. But you believe me, don't you? Everything that's happened here, these experiments, machines and creatures hauled up from the pits of whatever the hell, none of this should be possible. And yet it is. So whose to say I'm not becoming one of them?"

"You... What?" Her lips parted, her voice failing her as she stared at him in stunned silence. She was suddenly reminded of the recurring dream she had as a child. And although it had been years since she last woke up in the middle night, crying and begging him to take her home, Terra never forgot the people and places she saw in her dreams. It was all there, buried in the depths of her subconscious mind. But no matter how hard she tired, she couldn't make sense of these feelings that told her she was something more than human.

There were times when Kefka looked at her and saw that she was hopelessly lost and confused, unable to understand herself or what she was. He saw it in her eyes, and he knew that if anyone could understand what he was going through it was her. He wondered if she was aware of her true nature as an Esper, or if she was able to look at herself in the mirrior and see the lush mane of hair cascading down her back.

"You don't think I'm crazy, do you?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he studied the expression on her face. He couldn't blame her if she said yes. Practically everyone in the empire thought he was losing his mind.

"No," Terra said at length. She shook her head, her mint green curls falling into her face. "No, you're not crazy, Kefka. Not because of that."

"So you think there's something else then? Something I said or did that makes me insane?"

"I don't think you're crazy, Kefka. There have been whispers, and a few isolated incidents, but - "

"Bullshit," Kefka spat, cutting her off in mid sentence. "There have been more than whispers floating around the palace. And more than a few soldiers have lost their lives because of me."

"It's not your fault," Terra insisted. "You can't control it. There are days I struggle with it, too" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I struggle to understand what I am and how I got here. I'm not supposed to be able to use magic, Kefka. I don't understand how any of this is possible."

"Does it feel like your magic comes from another part of yourself? From something separate from yourself?"

"Yes, it does!" She felt relieved to know that someone else was experiencing the same thing she did, relieved and also a bit confused. She wasn't expecting him to know what she was going through, or to be able to grasp the concept of a power that originated from an external source, something that was both within and without her at the same time. "I can't explain it, but it doesn't feel like this is what I am, like I'm supposed to be something different... Something that isn't human."

Kefka sat up, his multicolored feathers in disarray, mingling with strands of hair that had escaped his ponytail and fallen into his face. "And what do you suppose that something is? What are we if we're not fully human?"

Terra sighed, looking just as worn and weary as he did. "I don't know," she said, letting her gaze drop to the floor. "I've been trying to figure that out for years. But don't ever let anyone tell you you're crazy just because you think you're turning into an Esper. I know what it feels like to doubt my own humanity. I'm different. We both are. And I don't think they understand us or know what we are anymore than we truly know ourselves."

Kefka chuckled, and allowed a smile to grace the corners of his lips. It wasn't his usual maniacal laughter that often escaped him at inappropriate moments. It was softer, more gentle than it usually was these days. "You're a good little girl. You know that, Terra? Every time I think I'm losing my mind I can always come to you. But I am very sick," he said, his tone becoming more serious. "Surely you must realize that I'm not well, that I haven't been well for a very long time."

"Yes, Kefka," she murmured, still gazing at the floor. "I know that you're unwell. But there's a difference between being crazy and being sick. And when someone is sick, they can't be held accountable for their actions."

"Really?" Kefka scratched his back, and felt his fingers sinking into the feathers that had formed on the surface of his phantom wings. "Remind me to tell Leo that the next time he lectures me on why we shouldn't burn Narshe to the ground."

Terra looked at him, and was surprised to see that he was still smiling. But his eyes betrayed him, showing pain and confusion within the depths of those pale blue orbs. He was hurting, and he was afraid. He feared what he was becoming, as well as what would happen to them when he reached the end of his transformation. It was his fear that made him human, and it was enough to make her believe that the old Kefka was still there, buried beneath the essence of magic that had warped his mind. That part of him didn't always break through the surface, but it was still there, the last remaining shred of his humanity.

She stood up, and offered him her hand. Kefka hesitated before reaching out and letting her help him off the floor. He leaned on her for support, his tired eyes beginning to close as they walked out of the laboratory. They didn't notice the feathers left behind on the floor, tiny feathers that shone with a soft, white light in the shadows of the cold, sterile room.


	23. Ice Queen

Dr. Cid was impressed with how well Celes was progressing, and urged her to apply for a position in the Imperial army. She agreed, knowing full well that her acceptance would be granted as soon she handed them the completed paperwork. It was only a matter of time before Gestahl forced her to join the military, and it was better that she went voluntarily rather than wait for an order from the Emperor.

While she was filling out the paperwork, Dr. Cid put in a request for Leo to train her. He knew that Leo was the finest soldier the military had to offer, and he'd rather she worked with him instead of Kefka. Because like it or not, Celes had accidents with her magic. She was still learning how to control her abilities, and it was only a matter of time before those abilities made themselves known during her training exercises.

Their training went smoothly for the first couple of days, but it was difficult for her to focus. She could feel the cold prickling her skin, always so close to the surface, trying to escape. It made her tense, her body straining against the urge to unleash a driving hailstorm on the man she was sparring with.

A cry escaped her lips, and she thrust her sword at him, the dark skinned man leaping aside and dodging her attack. Her movements were swift, flowing like water over rocks as she spun around, her blade clashing against his, but then Leo turned the tables on her and forced her back against the wall. Celes screamed, his blade missing her by a hairsbreadth as he drove the point of his sword into the wall. If he had come an inch closer he would have succeeded in ramming his blade through her skull.

"Focus, Celes." He pulled his sword out of the wall. "I can tell your heart isn't in it this morning. Perhaps you have other things on your mind." The way he said this made it sound like a question, and Celes' shoulders drooped as she gazed down at the floor.

She had to concentrate. This was no way for a Rune Knight to behave in battle. If she wanted to get anywhere and prove that she was just as good as the other soldiers, she was going to have to train hard and hone her skills to become the best that she could be.

She took a deep breath, tightened her grip on her sword, and charged at him, meeting him blow for blow as their training continued. They locked together, steel upon steel as they stared each other down. Sparks flew from her blade as it ground against his sword, and Leo gasped, falling back as he realized that the tiny specks of light were actually shards of ice shining in the sunlight.

Celes was moving faster now, the magic racing through her veins, driving her forward as they clashed again. But her body wasn't used to such speed, and she stumbled, falling forward just as he swung his sword and knocked the blade out of her hands. Leo raised his sword, preparing to strike the fallen soldier, when suddenly she turned on him, and the temperature of the air dropped by several degrees. A fierce snarl formed on her lips, her eyes blazing as she conjured a flurry of ice crystals from the palm of her hand. These shards were razor sharp, shredding his clothing in more than a dozen places as they whizzed past.

"Celes!" he exclaimed, ignoring the stinging pain in his wounds. He gaped at her, one hand holding his chest as blood oozed out from between his fingers. "You have magic. That's why Cid wanted me to train you. You're his next experimental knight."

The Rune Knight gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. She had no idea how it happened. One moment they were sparring with each other like they usually did, and then something came over her, something she'd never felt before. It was like a well had opened up inside her, releasing wave after wave of energy that quickened her pulse and froze the blood within her veins.

"I'm so sorry, Leo!" Celes suddenly blurted out. The last thing she wanted was to be seen as just another heartless monster like Kefka. "You know I would never try to hurt you. It's just that you had me down and then something happened, something awoke in me and all I knew was that I had to defend myself by any means necessary. And I didn't have my sword and you were right there and I -"

"Celes, calm down. It's alright. I know you didn't mean to hurt me." Leo looked at the rips in his clothes, and hissed in pain as he touched the tips of his fingers to a wound in his chest. His fingers came away with scarlet blotches staining his skin, and as he looked at her a single word escaped his lips. "Why?"

"Why?" Celes blinked and looked at him in confusion. "Why what?"

"Why did you do it?" he asked. "Why did you decide that you wanted to learn magic?"

"Because I wanted to show everyone that what Kefka is doing is wrong, that there are other ways to fight, and that magic doesn't always have to be a weapon of mass destruction."

"If you wanted to show them that there are other ways to fight, you should have continued your training without magic. That's what we did when Emperor Gestahl offered me and my father the opportunity to learn magic. We refused to be a part of it, and have chosen to distance ourselves from all forms of magic."

"Magic isn't entirely evil, Leo," Celes insisted. "It can be a beautiful, wonderful thing. If you saw the enchanted roses in Cid's garden you'd know what I'm talking about."

"But I haven't seen them. And while magic in and of itself might not be evil, Kefka certainly is. It was magic that started the war a thousand years ago, and it was magic that corrupted him. I only hope it doesn't have the same effect on you." Leo paused. He appeared to be considering her for a moment. "I'm sorry," he said at length. "Forgive me if my words seem a bit harsh. I had no idea that you were involved in the Magitek Knight program. And while I respect your decision to join the military and become part of this experimental program of his, I do not think it's wise. I don't see how you're going to survive the trials Kefka will undoubtedly set up to test your abilities."

"Kefka doesn't know yet," said Celes. "Neither does Terra. Only you, Cid and the Emperor know about this."

Leo walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Celes, you can't hide this from him forever. Emperor Gestahl made him General of the Imperial army. He is in control of every last man, woman and child involved in the military, and that includes you." He winced and removed his hand from her shoulder, clutching his arm as a trickle of blood oozed from a gash in his shoulder.

"Here, let me help. I can cast Cure to heal your injuries."

Leo politely turned down her offer, saying that he'd rather heal without the use of magic.

"Are you sure?" asked Celes. "It'll only take a minute."

"I'm sure."' He smiled through his pain and nodded. "Thank you for the offer. Perhaps you won't turn out like Kefka did. It's a shame what happened to him. I had nothing but the utmost respect for that man. Now I feel like I hardly know him anymore."

\------------------

They continued their training as the months slowly passed, with Celes taking time off for her bi-weekly infusions. She recovered quickly, often returning to work the next day with little to no lingering side effects. Leo was surprised with how well she was doing, and explained to her about problems that plagued Kefka during the infusion process.

"He had it rough, Celes. There were days he'd come to work sick, only to pass out five minutes after he sat down. The doctor said he developed a form of epilepsy as a side effect from the infusion, which cleared up after the experiments stopped, but still I'd hate to imagine everything that man went through. It's no wonder he went insane after everything they put him through." He paused, his hands in his lap as he looked at her. "If you don't mind my asking, I was wondering if you've experienced anything like that. You're so fit and healthy. It's hard to believe that you're going through the same experimental process that drove Kefka to the brink of insanity."

"No, I haven't experienced anything like that," Celes replied. "I'm usually sick to my stomach, and have little to no appetite, or a headache from time to time, but that's it. The hard part is figuring out how to control my magic. I can't even feel my fingertips anymore because of how many times I've accidentally frozen my hands. But I don't let that stop me," she said with a shrug. "I will get better with time. I'm sure of it."

"You're a brave little girl," said Leo, smiling at her as he spoke. "You know that, don't you? You're a strong individual, but you're also very kind, which is quite rare amongst members of the Imperial army. I want you to hold onto that kindness, because war destroys everyone, Celes. Not just the people we're fighting against. I've heard it said that you eventually become desensitized to such violence, until you lose yourself and stop caring about the people around you. That's what my father told me. He warned against letting that happen when I joined the military, and now I'm passing his message on to you, Celes."

This is why Celes enjoyed sitting and talking with Leo. He was gentle and kind, wise, caring and compassionate. He never let being a soldier come before being a human being, and he didn't treat people as though they were objects to be carelessly thrown away on the battlefield.

"Your father sounds like a very wise man, Leo."

"Yes, he is." Leo gazed up at the ceiling, thinking back to his early years when he first joined the military. Back then Kefka was still able to maintain some semblance of sanity, and his father was able to stand and walk without the use of crutches to get around.

"How is he doing? I don't see much of him anymore. Did he recover alright from his accident?"

Leo sighed heavily, and ran a hand through his blond mohawk. "He's doing well, I suppose. Still has the same amount of fighting spirit that he used to have. That hasn't changed. He had to go through therapy to learn how to walk again, but we think he's going to be alright."

"It wasn't really an accident, was it, Leo?"

"No, it wasn't."

Silence, followed by another heavy sigh.

"I don't hate Kefka for what he did. My father taught me to forgive my enemies, and that it's best not to hold grudges against those who have hurt you. He said that, even while he was still hospitalized from the 'accident'. He said he didn't want me to be like Kefka, and that he didn't want hatred corrupting my heart," he said, placing his hand on his chest. "What I am, as well as what I do and how I choose to live my life, I do it for him. And he's right. I shouldn't let someone's actions stain my heart until it becomes just as cruel and hollow as the one who caused my father's injuries. I can't blame Kefka either, because he is unwell, and we both know he wouldn't have done it if he hadn't lost his mind from those experiments."

"Unwell. Terra uses that word a lot to describe Kefka's mental health, or lack thereof." She shifted slightly, tracing the flat of her sword with her fingers as she gazed at he reflection in the cold, hard steel. "I don't know if it's because she cares about him so much, or if she's in denial about his illness. But I've heard her use every word you can think of, everything except crazy. And how can you just calmly sit there and say that you forgive him? Kefka treats everyone like they're his toys. He doesn't care about anyone or anything but himself."

"He cares about Terra. I've seen how he responds to her, how his behavior changes when he's in her presence. Though sometimes I wonder if maybe he cares too much."

Celes looked slightly confused. "What do you mean?"

"His feelings for her have changed. He used to act like a father to her, or perhaps an older brother. And while I strongly believe that his actions are motivated by the love and affection he feels for her, he has become possessive of her. I can't even look at her without receiving half a dozen death threats just because I waved at her and told her good morning."

Leo and Celes looked up as the sound of a heavy metal door slamming drew their attention away from their conversation. There was Kefka in all his rainbow colored clownish glory, his red and yellow cloak billowing out behind him as he swept across the room. They could tell by the look on his face that he was in a foul mood this morning, as he stormed in with a sheet of paper clenched in his fist.

Leo kept his head down, trying to keep a low profile in order to avoid Kefka's ire, but was startled out of his submissive pose when Kefka screamed and set the piece of paper on fire, throwing it onto the floor where it smoldered and burned.

"Guess what everyone," said Kefka, glaring at the soldiers in the training room. "You know all that extra training I've had you do in preparation for our little trip to Maranda?"

The soldiers nodded and replied with a chorus of "yes, sir". Celes was the only one who remained silent, the color draining from her face as she stared at the General.

"Well, it's been canceled!" Kefka exclaimed. "Apparently the Emperor has other plans that 'don't involve you', as he so kindly put it," he said, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers. "However he refused to elaborate on what these plans are, and needless to say I'm not pleased with this development." He then levitated one of the soldiers into the air, and with a flick of his he wrist sent the unfortunate soldier crashing into the wall on the opposite side of the room.

Kefka laughed as he watched the soldier collapse in a heap on the floor, then turned his rage on the others and hurled a fireball at the nearest soldier, only to have his attack met with an overwhelming shockwave that shook the floor of the training room. The ball of fire burst and scattered in all directions. Kefka was sent sprawling on the floor, his cloak and feathers in disarray. The soldiers gasped and watched as Leo rose from his seat, his eyes blazing as he gripped his sword with both hands.

"Leo, no!" Celes ran to him, latching onto his arm and begging him not to fight Kefka. "You'll be killed! Please, don't do this."

Moments later she was pushed aside, falling to the floor as Kefka screamed and launched himself at Leo. The soldier swung his sword in an arch above his head, bringing it down with a flash as energy surged from his hands into the blade. He was able to channel his strength into the sword, creating a second devastating shockwave that nearly knocked Kefka off his feet. But this time the mage was prepared for the attack, and conjured a shield made from shimmering blue crystals to protect himself from the attack.

Kefka strained against the pulsing shockwave, his shield bending under the strength of the attack. It was impossible for him to completely block it, but years of training with Terra had taught him how to reverse most spells, bending them to his will and sending them back at the person who cast them. The only problem was that this wasn't magic. Kefka wasn't even sure what sort of power this was. He knew Leo hadn't been infused with magic, and yet he was able to generate such powerful attacks by channeling his energy through his sword.

A scream tore from his throat, and Kefka's shield exploded in a dazzling display of light. Most of the energy Leo had sent at him was hurled back in his face, the rest of it struck the mage, wounding him and causing a substantial amount of damage.

Kefka was breathing heavily, a trickle of blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. He didn't know how Leo was able to use such power, and up until now he assumed the soldier could only fight using his sword like any other member of the Imperial army. Kefka's own hand-to-hand combat skills were rather poor due to the amount of time he'd spent honing his magical abilities. But that didn't mean he couldn't fry Leo where he stood, either with a bolt of lightning or a ball of fire.

He clutched his side, doubling over as he felt something wet oozing from a gash in his abdomen. Leo was on his knees, leaning heavily on his blade, his body trembling as he used the crystal sword for support to keep from falling over. Both of them had been injured by the blast, but Kefka had more combat experience and was able to recover more quickly.

"Bastard," Kefka snarled, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "What the hell was that supposed to be? You call that magic? Or are you trying to flatter me by imitating one of my spells?"

"Far from it, Kefka. This is just a skill my father taught me before his accident."

Kefka laughed. "Yes, because it did him a lot of good, didn't it?" He raised his hand, blood dripping from his pale fingers as a roaring ball of flames sprang to life in the palm of his hand. "Neither one of you are worth my time, and as soon as I'm done with you, I'm going to finish what I started with him."

He started cackling, the fireball growing in size until it was nearly three feet across. "I'll kill you!" he screeched, a combination of blood and spittle flying from his lips. "I'll kill your family, I'll kill everyone you've ever loved! I'm going to destroy everything!"

What happened next would be repeated throughout the palace for days to come, spreading like wildfire despite the Emperor's attempts to silence anyone who told the story of how one young soldier was able to stop Kefka from murdering Leo. And as for Leo, he was barely able to comprehend what he was seeing, his sight swimming as he struggled to remain conscious. They would tell him what happened when he woke up in the hospital, but all he could remember was a flash of light, followed by the sight of something green - a dress perhaps, or some other article of clothing - as Celes ran forward and jumped on Kefka's back.

Celes screamed, wrapping her arms and legs around him. Ice crystals formed where her hands made contact with his body, her fingertips surrounded by a pale blue light, and she unleashed a freezing cold blast of ice, launching herself into the air as the pounding wave of energy surged from the palms of her hands.

Kefka was struck with the full force of her Blizzard attack before he even had time to register what was happening. He stumbled forward, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. "You!" he snarled, turning just in time to see the teen flip in midair and land catlike on all fours.

Celes crouched on the floor, glaring at him with eyes that appeared to have been made from shards of ice. A cold wind swirled around her feet, rising from the floor and whipping her hair out behind her. She was surrounded by a flurry of snow and ice that came together in the palms of her hands, forming a miniature blizzard as she thrust her hands outwards, firing a barrage of ice crystals at him.

Kefka took the attack head on, unable to stop the harsh, driving winds from slamming into him. The blades of ice tore into his skin, digging deeper than when she had accidentally attacked Leo. His vision was eclipsed in white, the strength went out of his limbs, and he collapsed onto the floor of the training room.

Silence filled the air as they stared at the defeated General, waiting to see if he would move. They moved in close, then leapt back as soon as they saw his fingers twitch.

Kefka lifted his head off the floor. "You... You have magic," he rasped. "You're not supposed to have magic. You aren't supposed to be able to cast spells like I can!" The edges of his vision darkened, and within a matter of seconds he lost consciousness, lying in a broken heap at Celes' feet.


	24. Don't Think You Know Me

Leo leaned back against the mound of pillows on the bed, his muscles aching and his mind still reeling from what he'd seen. Every time he closed his eyes his vision was illuminated by a flash of green, followed by the sound of Kefka screaming as he was hit with a wall of ice and snow. It was Celes. There was no other explanation for it. But why would she attack a General when there was a good chance she would either be killed or expelled from the military? And yet he'd attacked Kefka as well, fighting back to defend his fellow soldiers.

"Are you sure you're alright?" asked the nurse, who was in the process of looking him over to make sure he was alright.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm fine." Leo nodded. "I was just thinking..." His words trailed off into silence, and he turned his head, gazing out the window at the building that loomed over the eastern part of the city.

Kefka had been taken to the Magitek Research Facility hospital, and placed in a special ward for those who were part of the Magitek Knight program. Leo could see the building from his place in the military hospital, and wondered if they were close enough to feel the effects of Kefka's tantrum once they revived him. He'd seen Kefka at his worst when he was raging out of control, his scream shattering the windows in the building as the floor shook under his feet. Why the hell did they allow him to learn a spell like Quake? Kefka was dangerous enough as it was without knowing how to cause earthquakes and summon lightning.

Leo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wincing as the nurse wrapped a layer of bandages around his left arm. He knew this was far from being over, and that Kefka would be the least of their worries once Gestahl found out what they'd done. No one was allowed to lay a hand on the Emperor's precious pet. But what would happen when he discovered that his new pet attacked the old one? Would he be lenient with her because she was still in the process of becoming a Rune Knight? Perhaps he might get the wrong impression, and think that she was losing her mind and becoming violent like Kefka.

A terrible thought entered his mind, and Leo felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. What if she really was losing her mind and no one realized it yet? The Celes he knew was such a bold, brave, determined little girl, but she was also kind, stubborn and highly intelligent. If anything the experiments had simply highlighted some of her more assertive tendencies. But still, it was quite a change to see her go from being the playful little five year old to a teenaged soldier. He could only hope her actions weren't enough to get her killed or thrown out of the military. Because even if Gestahl went easy on her, there was no guarantee that Kefka would do the same.

\---------------

"Two Shocks and at least one Blizzard, doctor. His pulse is stable, respiration is at nineteen and his blood pressure is normal."

"So that's what it takes to bring down Kefka Palazzo. Anyone else would have fainted after Leo's first shockwave." Dr. Cid looked at the unconscious mage, and wondered if it would be better to leave him like that for awhile. It would give him time to think things through, and to prepare himself for the outburst that would follow once Kefka was revived.

"Do you want me to begin treatment?" the nurse asked.

Dr. Cid stroked his mustache, pondering her question for a minute before nodding and allowing her to proceed.

There was a plastic bag on the cart beside the bed, which contained an assortment of soft, downy feathers from a young phoenix. Some of the feathers were large, and ranged in size from one to two feet in length. They were bright red in color, with streaks of orange flames running across their surface.

Before she could begin Dr. Cid stayed her hand, holding her wrist as she selected one of the large tail feathers from the bag.

"Use the smaller ones," he said. "I don't want him bouncing off the walls the minute he wakes up."

The nurse selected a handful of small, downy feathers, then held them in her cupped hands as she leaned over the unconscious mage. She closed her eyes, and silently prayed to the spirit of the phoenix. The feathers began to glow, a sensation of warmth spreading through her hands as the light grew stronger, then all at once the feathers disintegrated into a pile of ash.

Kefka gasped, his eyes opening as he blinked and gazed about the room in confusion. It took a moment for him to realize where he was, and that it was Dr. Cid's voice he was hearing.

"Take it easy, Kefka. You'll be alright it a minute."

The mage shifted slightly in bed, his eyes closing against the bright glare of the overhead lights. Never before had he felt so exhausted. Everything hurt, from his head down to his toes. This was a new level of exhaustion that left him wanting to collapse, melt and then fuse into the carpet fibers. But how does one collapse when they're already lying down?

"Where... Where is she?" Kefka mumbled, his words slurring together as though he were drunk. "Where's the girl?"

"Try not to think about her. The only thing you need to focus on is getting plenty of rest." Cid glanced at the nurse, then frowned and shook his head when she reached for the potion on the cart. He mouthed the word "no", then quickly returned his attention to the exhausted mage.

Dr. Cid started when he saw Kefka's blue eyes glaring at him from beneath strands of his long, blond hair. Kefka rolled over onto his side and dug his fingernails into the mattress. He wanted to scream, to lunge at the doctor and rip his throat out, but he barely had the strength to move.

"Bring her to me," Kefka hissed. A muscle twitched over his right eye, and he slid his hand across the mattress, shredding the sheets with his clawlike fingernails. "I'm the General of the Imperial army, and I demand to see her at once!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that," said Cid. He opened his mouth to continue speaking and was cut off by an ear piercing scream.

Kefka flew across the bed, the nurse grabbing him by his cloak before he could reach the doctor. There was fire shining in his eyes, his strength renewed by a sudden surge of hatred and adrenaline, and within seconds he started screaming and thrashing about on the bed.

The doctor and the nurse converged on him, grabbing arms and legs as Kefka let out a high-pitched, unearthly howl.

"Stop this, Kefka!" Cid cried, his hands around Kefka's wrists in an attempt to stop him from flailing about like a fish out of water. "You knew this day would come. I told you before that Gestahl wanted me to create more knights once the process was perfected. Now stop this before you end up hurting yourself."

But Kefka wouldn't stop screaming. His hands stiffened into claws, his arms flailing as he lashed out at anything that moved. The doctor leaned forward, pinning him down as he reached across the bed and seized a syringe off the cart.

"Turn him this way!" Cid shouted.

The nurse shrieked as she felt Kefka's fingernails tear open her left cheek, followed by a warm trickle of blood spilling down the side of her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head as she forced him over onto his side, and the doctor plunged the needle into Kefka's right thigh.

The sharp stab of pain was enough to draw his attention away from the nurse, and he paused, his eyes wide and his mouth open in a silent scream. The strength went out of his limbs, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he fell forward into the doctor's arms. He was still conscious when they laid him on his back, his sight swimming as the sedative began to take effect. How could they do this to him? He was special, he was the first. Emperor Gestahl favored him above all others. And now there was another, one that didn't have to suffer through the pain, through the endless nightmares and voices that had haunted him during the last six years.

The doctor looked at the nurse. "Go get Terra. She's the only one who can keep him calm. And tell her to bring one of those dolls with her that he's always carrying around."

Everything was spinning, the voices and colors blending together in an incomprehensible haze of sight and sound. Kefka closed his eyes, and allowed himself to sink into a semiconscious daze. He felt certain that the experiments would have some sort of negative effect on Celes. There was no way she could go through with this and still manage to escape with her sanity intact. And even if she did, he would personally see to it that she was made to suffer. If he had to torture her until she went insane, he would.

All magic came at a price. Kefka had gone mad, Terra had been kidnapped, her mother murdered and her father imprisoned by the empire, so why should Celes be the only one who gained such an incredible gift without paying the price for it?

\----------------

Terra was with Celes in the hallway, the two girls sitting side by side as they listened to Kefka's tantrum in the room down the hall. They coud hear the doctor yelling orders at the nurse, followed by a loud thump when Kefka lashed out with both feet and kicked the doctor into the wall.

"What is wrong with him?" asked Celes, a look of horror on her face as his cries grew louder before ending just as quickly as they began. "Terra, look, I know you don't want to admit it, but there's something seriously wrong with him."

"No! You don't understand." Terra rose from her seat, her eyes bright with unshed tears. She was frustrated, and above all else she was tired of everyone telling her that Kefka had lost his mind. "Those experiments did something to him, and now it's like he doesn't know who or what he is anymore."

Celes rolled her eyes. "Listen to me, Terra. You have to realize that he's not the man you remember from when we were kids. He's dangerous. He's not fit to be around other people, let alone in charge of the Imperial army."

Terra cried out in frustration. "That's what I'm trying to tell you! I know he's not the person he used to be. He thinks he's becoming some sort of Esper, and that his magic comes from another part of him that was created by the experiments."

Celes scoffed at the idea. "I'm sure he thinks a lot of things, Terra. But that doesn't make any of it true."

"Why not? Who's to say someone can't be half-Esper and half-human? Those experiments were untested when they started playing around with him. Who knows what it could have done to him?"

"Miss Branford?"

The girls looked up as the nurse approached them.

"Miss Branford, the doctor wants to see you. He says its urgent, and that he needs you to bring the uh, the doll that Palazzo is always carrying around with him."

Terra sighed heavily. "I have to go," she said at length. "Tell Leo that I hope he feels better soon, and that I'm sorry that Kefka was so mean to him. I know he didn't mean to hurt him. There are just some things that people don't understand."

She arrived in Kefka's room a short while later, a doll tucked under her arm that she had brought from his bedroom. She cautiously approached the bed, gazing down at his sleeping form as she propped the doll up against the railing. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. It was hard to believe that this one person was capable of such destruction. He was so thin, almost sickly looking from years of experiments that had taken their toll on him. He was also shorter than the men who served him. Leo practically towered over him, and yet he had stood his ground against the soldier, one small man with the strength of a hundred.

"Maybe we're both monsters," she murmured. "What if we aren't human at all, but something else entirely?"

Seeing Kefka's transformation throughout the years made her question everything she thought she knew about herself. There were times when her consciousness shifted, her mind reverting to its primal form, causing her to lose her grip on the human language. She would back into the corner, growling and making bizarre noises. It was strange, but stranger still was the fact that Kefka seemed to understand her. He would listen to the sounds she made, and could tell if she was hurting or scared, while all anyone else did was call her a monster and throw her in one of the holding cells until she calmed down.

He was always there for her, helping her see clearly when all the world around her became a swirling torrent of unfamiliar sights and smells. She would lose herself in these transformations, unable to recall her name or recognize anyone but him. His scent was familiar, his voice, his touch when he stroked her hair through the bars that surrounded her, she knew him well even when she didn't know herself.

Kefka was lucky, she thought, because at least he knew why he had these bizarre moments. Terra didn't know why she felt this way, why she sometimes wanted to run and soar through the clouds, higher and higher, leaving the world behind as she took his hand and escaped into the setting sun.

The desire for flight was something else they had in common. She remembered a time when Kefka had spoken with her about having wings, and told her how he liked to climb to the top of the observation tower, close his eyes, and feel the wind ruffling the feathers on his wings. He imagined what it would be like to fly, but said that his wings were too small to allow for flight.

"And how do you know that?" Terra asked. "You can't even see them."

"I know, Terra," he replied. "They are a part of me. I can feel them, like phantom limbs that have yet to physically manifest themselves. But it will happen in time. This is something I've felt for a while now. I just don't have enough magic for them to manifest."

She could hear the sadness in his voice when he spoke. It was a sadness born from longing, a desire to shed these worthless human remains and embrace the gods above the heavens. Kefka knew that his body was broken and his mind was wasting away, but he also knew that he could rise above what they had done to him, if only he had enough magic to complete his transformation.

"Is that why you do it, Kefka? Is that why you wear feathers in you hair, because you're trying to make your outward appearance reflect the way you feel on the inside?"

Kefka paused, looking out over the buildings and streets of Vector. "Yes, Terra," he said softly. "I can't transform myself into the creature I see in my mind's eye. Not yet anyway. So I use makeup, feathers and other homemade accessories to represent my true inner self." He smiled, gazing up at the fiery skies above. "You're a good little girl. You listen to me when no one else does. And more importantly, you seem to understand what I'm going through."

She smiled back at him. "It's what I've always done, Kefka. I've always been there for you when you needed a friend. Just like you were there for me."

"Really? Pity I can't remember such times. But I'll take your word for it."

There was no denying that the experiments had changed him, both mentally and physically. But to become something else entirely, something that wasn't human, that was an unforeseen side effect that no one had dreamed possible. Terra wondered how long it would be until he sprouted wings and changed into the person she saw in her dreams. That man had always pushed himself to his limits, enduring incredible amounts of pain and sickness, and for what? What did he hope to gain from everything he put himself through? Did he do it for attention? For power? Or was there something more sinister that motivated him?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a low moan, and she looked down to see him moving restlessly in his sleep. It was obvious that he was having another nightmare, so she shook him gently to rouse him from his sleep.

Kefka rolled over onto his side, turning his back towards her and curling in on himself. He'd succeeded in making himself sick from upset, and he had no desire to entertain guests at the moment. All he wanted was to be left alone so he could imagine various ways in which he might torture the little blond girl and her faithful companion.

"Kefka?" Terra placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright? Celes told me what happened and - "

"Don't say her name!" he barked. "I hate hate hate hate her. I don't ever want to hear that name spoken again as long as I live." He started rocking back and forth, his arms wrapped around his torso, muttering to himself about how much he despised both Leo and Celes. His speech became louder and more rapid, his words slurring together to form an incomprehensible string of nonsense, until all she could make out was the word "hate" repeated over and over again.

She tried shaking him to draw him out of his trance, his eyes wide and unblinking as he stared at the wall ahead of him. When that didn't work she tried calling his name, but Kefka kept right on going, the rapid fire curses sliding effortlessly from his lips. She had to practically scream at him before he finally stopped. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he glanced over his shoulder at her and whispered, "I'm going to kill her. I want her dead. I want her and that disgusting little goody-goody to die."

"Kefka, please. Do you really think that's the best way to solve your problems?"

"Of course it is!" he spat, his voice dripping with malice and contempt. "If they're dead they won't be able to bother me, now will they?"

"But you can't! Celes is my friend. If you hurt her then I'll... I'll..."

"Yes?" Kefka raised an eyebrow, looking at her and waiting for a response. He knew Terra wouldn't hurt a fly. She was far too gentle, too loving and pure of heart. "I know you too well, Terra. You wouldn't lay a finger on me."

Terra gasped, her mouth dropping open in shock. "You know me too well? You don't even remember what we did last week!"

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm quite certain you would never hurt me."

"And I know you won't hurt me, Kefka. If you do anything - if you harm them - you'd be hurting me as well. I care about them, and I don't want them getting hurt."

Kefka huffed out an irritated sigh. He looked at the doll that was propped up against the railing, then looked back at Terra. "Don't ever assume that you know me," he growled. He then set fire to the doll and threw it at her. "Here! You can give that to your darling friend. Tell her it's a gift from me."


	25. Confrontation

Dr. Cid sat at the table in the meeting room, watching the Emperor pacing back and forth. Celes was sitting to his left, a frown on her face and her arms crossed over her chest. She looked thoroughly annoyed, as though she clearly didn't want to be here and wanted to leave as soon as possible. Leo was sitting to her right, looking rather worn and anxious. They all knew why they had been called here, as well as what to expect given the Emperor's history of letting Kefka get away with whatever he wanted.

"Now let me get this straight," said Gestahl, glaring at the others from the opposite end of the table. "According to the eyewitness reports, Miss Chere attacked General Palazzo, completely unprovoked and without any justifiable cause."

Celes gaped at him. "I was trying to help Leo! Kefka was - "

Gestahl held up a hand to silence her and continued talking. "The altercation began when Christophe, who was displeased with Palazzo's disciplinary tactics, took action to defend his fellow soldiers." He turned to Leo. "I am very disappointed in you. As an older, well-seasoned member of the Imperial army, I expect you to show some respect to your commanding officer." He motioned with his hand towards Celes and said, "What sort of example do you think this sets for your young charge?"

Cid raised a hand. "Pardon me, sir, but as I have stated on numerous accounts, Kefka is highly unstable and needs to be closely monitored. I don't think he should be allowed to dole out such punishments, especially when he was the one who attacked them in the first place."

Gesthal leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. "Do you see these documents?" He slid a stack of papers across the table. The papers contained hand written accounts from the soldiers in the training room during Kefka's attack on Leo.

The doctor looked at the papers, noting several places where statements had been altered, with entire lines of text blacked out to prevent anyone from reading the information contained in the documents.

"This newly written version of what went on today is all anyone needs to know," said Gestahl. He picked up a sheet of paper, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. "This is what the public will believe. And if anyone disagrees with me, they can burn in hell." The sheet of paper burst into flames.

"You gave him magic too?" Celes exclaimed, turning in her seat and looking at Dr. Cid.

Cid groaned, leaning forward against the table with his head in his hands.

An evil smile twisted the wrinkled features of Gestahl's face. "I'm suspending both of you, Miss Chere, Mister Christophe. You are not allowed to go on any missions for a month." He dropped the burning piece of paper on the table where it smoldered and turned to ash. "And unless your behavior improves you, can forget about your trip to Maranda."

He dismissed them with a wave of his hand, and Celes, who was furious with his decision to suspend both her and Leo, pushed her chair out and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her as she left. Leo followed her out into the hall, slipping on the ice that had formed beneath her feet as she walked.

He fell forward, grabbing her by the arm to keep from falling on the floor. He was taken aback by how cold her skin felt. The air around her was freezing, with flakes of snow materializing in the air above her head.

"You can't just speak out like that during a meeting, Celes. I know it wasn't right, but the Emperor has the final say on what goes on around here. And as much as I hate to admit it, he does have a point. I should not have attacked Kefka. There were other ways for us to settle our dispute without resorting to violence."

"Really?" Celes yanked her arm out of his grasp. "Too bad Kefka doesn't know that. And I seriously doubt that he would be willing to talk things out over a cup of tea and some biscuits."

Leo sighed. He looked back at the door of the meeting room. There were voices coming from inside. It sounded as though Cid had chosen to stay behind and continue the conversation after they left.

"What's going to happen when Kefka finds out that I've been assigned to Maranda?" Celes asked. "Is he going to throw a fit over that too? And if he does, what kind of lies will the Emperor use to cover up his tantrum? Does he just sweep everything under the rug like it means nothing to him?"

"I'm afraid so, Celes. The best advice I can give you is to stay as far away from Kefka as possible. Don't speak to him, don't look him in the eye, just get your work done as quickly and efficiently as possible and leave before he blows up over something else."

"Well," Celes huffed. "I see nothing wrong with fighting back when Kefka starts attacking innocent people. He's got everyone so terrified that no one is willing to stand up and put him in his place."

"It's not just Kefka," Leo reminded her. "Emperor Gestahl will execute anyone who stands in Kefka's way. That is if Kefka doesn't kill them first." The soldier took a step forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. "The Emperor was right about one thing, though. And that is that I need to consider how my actions will effect you."

Celes blinked and looked at him with mild curiosity.

"Don't sink to his level," he continued. "Hatred and violence only breeds more violence. There's nothing any of us can do for him. That's why it's better to just walk away. Eventually the Emperor will realize that he needs to remove Kefka from the military. Though I fear it may be at the cost of many lives once Kefka finally snaps and unleashes his fury on everyone in the palace."

"Shows how much you know if you think I'd stoop to his level. I'm nothing like him, and I never will be. That's why I choose ice element magic, because I refuse to incinerate people the way Kefka does." She then turned on heel and marched off down the hall, leaving Leo by himself, surrounded by flakes of snow and melting puddles of ice.

\---------------

Her words came back to haunt her when the citizens of Maranda ran screaming through the streets. Celes raised her sword and ordered the soldiers to attack, firing beams of ice from the gaping mouths of the draconic suits of armor. Each time she raised her sword another building fell, torn to shreds by pulsing waves of snow and ice. She summoned the clouds from the sky, conjuring blizzards that blanketed the town in white. And although she refused to kill anyone unless it was absolutely necessary, she could see how her actions were similar to Kefka's.

Buildings collasped under the weight of all the snow that had accumulated on the rooftops, trapping people inside and injuring those that had been caught in the collapse. Children were crying, clinging to their mothers as their fathers were hauled off and forced to serve the Imperial army. And yet she still tried to tell herself that she was nothing like him, as she conjured a barrage of icicles and sent them flying towards one of the men that had tried to flee the town.

The frozen spears caught on his clothing, pinning him to the wall as he tried to flee the scene. He struggled and fought, and when the icicles cracked and started to break, Celes conjured a snowstorm from the palms of her hands, freezing him in place as his family looked on in horror.

She flexed her wrist, conjuring an icicle that was over a foot long. "Anyone else think they can escape? Because I'd love the chance for some early morning target practice."

The frantic cries slowly began to dissipate, until only a few small, muffled cries escaped the children as they were ushered out of the building by a handful of soldiers.

"Right then." Celes dissolved the frozen spear and turned to face the crowd of people. "I hereby declare the city of Maranda official property of the Gestahlian empire. From now on soldiers will occupy the city, keeping watch over its citizens and employing martial law. You are to obey the rules of the empire. Failure to do so will result in swift punishment and possible execution. Those of you who are capable of serving the military will be taken to the empire for evaluation and training. Do I make myself clear?"

Most of the citizens were quiet, listening as the teenaged soldier recited her carefully memorized speech. What had become of the world when they were sending magic infused teenagers into battle? She was only thirteen years old, and yet here she was, taking command and fighting with the strength of an entire army at her back.

Celes looked at the ruined town, and couldn't help the satisfied smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. She had succeeded in her mission, taking the town by force without killing half the population or burning everything to the ground. There had been a few casualties, and a handful of injuries, but it was nothing compared to the destruction Kefka was capable of causing.

Just because she was a Rune Knight didn't mean she had to kill everything in sight. She could accomplish her mission in a calm, composed manner, maintaining a level of control that Kefka had yet to master, because this is what it meant to be a knight for the empire. It meant grace under pressure, dignity and honor. Leo had trained her well, and she refused to kill someone just because they looked at her funny, or crossed paths with her when she was having a bad day.

Celes stayed in Maranda for several days before returning to Vector. She was greeted by Gestahl upon her return, and bowed before him, announcing that her mission had been a success. The Emperor was pleased with her work, and offered her the opportunity to work with Leo on a future mission in South Figaro. Celes graciously accepted the offer and was just about to leave when she noticed Kefka leaning against the wall in the corner of the room. He'd been watching everything from afar, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at her from across the room.

He raised a hand and motioned for her to come closer. Celes hesitated. She was unsure of whether or not she should join him for a private conversation in the hall, as he seemed to indicate that he wanted to speak with her.

"Go on then," said Gesthal, nodding and motioning for her to leave.

Celes took one last look at the Emperor before making her way down the stairs and joining Kefka in the shadows near the exit.

Kefka seemed unusually calm this evening, which was never a good sign because it usually meant he'd gone into silent rage mode, otherwise known as the calm before the storm. He put his hands behind his back and strolled off down the hall, walking alongside her as they began their conversation.

"Well, if it isn't little miss glitter blizzard and her enchanted snowflakes," he said, glancing sideways at her. "I hear you had quite the success in Maranda, a town you shouldn't have been assigned to in the first place seeing as how it was mine to begin with."

"What do you want, Kefka?" Celes wouldn't bother with pleasantries, and decided to skip right to the point of why he had summoned her here in the first place.

"Well, now that's rather rude," said Kefka, feigning innocence as he pretended to look surprised by her question. "What makes you think I want something?"

"Because you wouldn't have called me over if you didn't."

Kefka smirked. "You know me too well, don't you?"

Celes rolled her eyes. She picked up the pace, walking ahead of him then turning on heel to face the giggling mage. "Cut the crap, Kefka. If you've got something to say to me then say it."

"My, aren't we huffy this evening," said Kefka, his gaze darkening as he looked down at her. The atmosphere around them shifted, and the temperature rose by several degrees as he continued to stare at her, his eyes alight with malicious flames. "Tell me something," he snapped, his tone becoming suddenly harsh. "What sort of side effects do you experience from those infusions? Have you ever had seizures or black outs? Do you ever become confused as to where you are or what you're doing?"

Celes was uncomfortable with how close he was, and took a few steps back, trying to distance herself from him. "Why do you ask? Don't tell me that's what you've experienced, Kefka."

The mage chuckled darkly, closing the gap between them in a matter of seconds. "I've experienced all that and more. I've seen things you wouldn't believe. No one would. I was just wondering if you happened to share in my affliction."

"You really are insane, aren't you?"

Kefka smiled at her and shrugged. "Perhaps," he murmured, looking as though he hadn't been insulted by her choice of words. "I've been called a lot of things throughout the years. Madman, insane, clown, jester, freak, idiot, fool. It always amuses me how these people think that hurling insults in my geneal direction somehow wounds me, as if mere words can penetrate the walls I've built up around me." He took a step towards her, shadows falling across his painted face as he forced her into a corner. "I've heard it all," he hissed. "And it means nothing, Celes. Absolutely nothing."

The sight of him standing there, bathed in shadow as silver moonlight spilled across the floor was unnerving, and Celes felt a chill travel down her spine as he locked eyes with her.

"I haven't experienced anything like that," she said slowly. "I've been sick to my stomach and unable to eat, maybe a bit dizzy at times, but that's it, Kefka."

"Oh, you poor thing." His voice was positively dripping with sarcasm. Kefka curled a lock of her hair around his finger, and smiled when he felt her tremble at his touch. "Try vomiting blood on the palace steps, or having a massive seizure that erases the memories you've accumulated during the last twenty years. Can you imagine it, Celes? Waking up in the hospital with no memory of how you got there or even who your closet friends are."

An eerie silence filled the air. Kefka cocked his head to the side, studying her for a moment before he continued speaking.

"Perhaps it takes time for the madness to fully manifest itself with this new and improved method. There might be a delayed reaction, something that traps the madness inside of you before it explodes all at once in a glorious display of hate and destruction. Or perhaps you're lying to me. I could only contain it for so long before everything, every thought, every feeling, evey memory I ever had disintegrated. That's what it's like, Celes. That's what it's like to slowly watch yourself fall to pieces."

He leaned forward, baring his teeth in a hideous grin. "I want to watch you implode upon yourself like I did," he hissed, his voice no more than whisper. He then looked over his shoulder as he felt someone tap him on the back.

There was Terra, standing in a shaft of moonlight that spilled in through the open window.

"Leave her alone, Kefka."

She couldn't bring herself to raise her voice to him. Not because of fear, but because she still cared deeply for this poor, deranged man. She'd seen glimpses of his former self from time to time, during the brief moments when they were alone on the observation tower, with Kefka opening up and revealing a side of himself that no one else knew existed. She saw the way he struggled, questioning his humanity as he tried to understand what he was becoming. And sometimes, when she was alone at night, gazing out her bedroom window at the millions of glimmering stars that filled the night sky, she wondered if perhaps there might be something wrong with her as well.

He wasn't the same person anymore, but that didn't stop her from finding new ways to empathize with him. She continued to reach out to him when no one else would, holding on to anything that would keep her close to him.

Terra took a step forward, her eyes never leaving his face. "Come on, Kefka. We need to go home." She held out her hand, like a person offering food to a frightend animal. "Just leave her alone. She hasn't done anything to you."

Kefka growled and began to back away. He was liable to attack her if she got too close to him. He wasn't even sure why he was supposed to go home with her in the first place. He had no memory of allowing her to live with him, nor did he recall the reason why he was supposed to be looking after her.

During the last few years their roles had reversed, forcing Terra to care for him now that he had regressed to the mentality of a child. His personality and behavior shifted from one day to the next, and she could never be sure whether or not he would remember who she was when he woke up in the morning. Sometimes he was confused as to why she was here. Sometimes he didn't remember her name, and she would sit with him on the foot of his bed, talking to him and telling him stories about when she was little to try and help him remember.

It was like meeting him for the first time all over again, only this time he was a grown man and she was a teenager. She tried her best to help him remember the life they had, and there were days when he was able to recall certain events from their past, but for the most part everything was lost to him, and he struggled on a daily basis with who she was, as well as who and what they were, for he knew that neither one of them were fully human, he just couldn't put his thoughts into words to describe what he was feeling.

Celes, as well as other members of the Imperial army, were amazed at how much patience she showed when working with the crazed magician. Nobody else wanted to put up with him, and long about now the process that had been used to give him the ability to use magic had been deemed a failure.

After everything he'd been through, after everything he'd lost and the countless nights he suffered in pain, she was all he had left. He didn't know why she did it, caring for him and going out of her way to make him happy, but it meant something to him. In the back of his mind he knew that she was special, that no one else loved him the way she did. And although he was unable to return the affection she showed him, he still cared about her in many strange and perverse ways that no one besides Terra understood.

He listened to her, responding to her words and actions when no one else could get through to him. And so with one last hate filled glance in Celes' direction he followed her down the hall, muttering something to himself until his words dissolved into hysterical laughter.

The laughter echoed off the cold, steel walls, following him down the hall as Terra ushered him downstairs. He was so sure of himself, so sure that Celes would soon begin the downward spiral into insanity, and as Terra was leading him downstairs he looked over his shoulder and shouted, "You'll be next! Little miss perfect glitter blizzard and her enchanted snowflakes. You'll see!"


	26. Raging Inferno

Eight months. That's how long it took them to give Celes her first real mission, sending her to Maranda where she conquered the town with ease. She was only eight months into the newly redesigned infusion program, and yet she had gone farther than Kefka had in a single year. His first year had been filled with nightmares and hallucinations as a strange sickness slowly crept over him, robbing him of his sanity while voices spoke to him in the dead of night. And while he was screaming and climbing the walls in an attempt to escape the demons that haunted him, Celes slept peacefully in her bed, never knowing the horrors that infested the shadowy crevices of his mind.

Twelve months passed. Dr. Cid said that the revised process would be complete in under two years, and that Celes was already in the final stages of the infusion process. Kefka, on the other hand, had entered the second stage at eighteen months, and still had a long ways to go before the process was complete. It was during the second stage that he suffered a massive seizure which left him comatose for a week. He awoke to find that his memories had faded, erasing the time he'd spent with Terra.

A year and a half. Celes had completed the program and was now on her way to being promoted. Her reputation amongst her fellow soldiers was superb. She was cunning, brave, and just as strong as the men she worked with. Leo was proud of her, Terra looked up to her. She was a well respected member of the Imperial army.

Kefka, meanwhile, continued to watch her from afar, his blood boiling every time she walked in the room. How was it that someone who had mastered the art of ice magic could set his blood on fire with a single glance from across the room? He despised her, almost as much as he hated Leo. She was everything Gestahl wanted her to be, free from any sort of flaw or cracks in the foundation of her sanity. The way she walked, strutting into the room with her head held high, her blond hair trailing down her back, sword at her side, ready for battle at a moments notice. It was enough to make him want to scream, set her on fire, then laugh as he watched her burn.

It was maddening, having to stand by and watch her rise through the ranks, gradually working her way towards the next promotion. Kefka did everything he could to make her life miserable, increasing her workload and giving her the most difficult tasks he could think of. But no matter what he threw at her she continued to fight back, proving time and time again that she had what it took to survive the madness of Kefka Palazzo.

Two years passed. Celes had attained the rank of rear admiral, and a banquet was to be held to celebrate her success. Terra knew that something was wrong the moment they made the announcement, because instead of flying off the handle into a profanity laced fit of rage, Kefka remained unusually calm.

A muscle twitched over his left eye, his lips quivering as he fought not to laugh. "Really?" said Kefka, his hands curling into fists at his side. He flexed his fingers, feeling the magic burn just beneath the surface of his skin.

Gesthal nodded. "Yes. And as General of the Imperial army, you are expected to attend the banquet with the rest of your troop."

Terra took a step back, standing off to the side and glancing up at Kefka. She could feel the heat baking off him as his blood pressure started to rise, and took another step back to prevent her dress from bursting into flames.

"Of course, sir," said Kefka. He forced a smile on his clownish face. "I have some business to tend to first, but I'll definitely be there."

"Good. The banquet starts at seven o' clock sharp. Don't be late, Palazzo."

Terra watched as the Emperor left the room, then looked back at Kefka. The mage was shaking with barely suppressed rage, a wide grin on his face as he stood staring off into space. "Kefka, are you alright?"

There was a long pause, during which Kefka swore he could feel the very fibers of his brain ripping apart, one fragile thread at a time. He turned, looking down at the little girl beside him. Though really she wasn't that little anymore. She was fifteen years old, and was almost as tall as he was. He wondered how she had grown up so fast. He'd forgotten so much and lost track of time, resulting in large gaps in his memory. It seemed impossible that she was the same child who stood beside his bed, stroking his hair and trying to help him remember who she was. How had she grown up so fast? When did he lose his little girl? And more importantly when did he lose himself?

It was all a blur, one moment blending seamlessly with another. He would leave his room in the morning, and several hours later wind up in another part of the palace he didn't recognize. This was why Terra followed him around so much. She knew that he sometimes got disorientated and confused, though it didn't happen as often as she claimed it did. Or at least he didn't think it did. And when it happened it was only temporary. He really didn't care one way or the other. It all looked the same to him anyway, one set of steel pipes merging with the cold metal walls, their intricate designs flowing endlessly throughout the palace, broken only by plush velvet rugs and hanging tapestries bearing the Gestahlian emblem.

It was all the same, and it would all burn one day when he'd finally reached his limit. But Terra, she was worried about him. He could see it in her eyes. The way she clung to him, holding his arm and gazing into his eyes. It seemed to him as though she cried far too often for someone who wasn't a little girl. When he yelled at her, when he came home covered in blood and was unable to remember where he'd been for the past few hours. He remembered seeing her back into the corner, her eyes wide as she slid down the wall and onto the floor. He was following Gestahl's orders. Why did that bother her so much?

Most of the time he didn't care. He couldn't care because he'd forgotten how to give a damn about this world and the people in it. But when he saw her shaking and sobbing, running from the room in tears, something told him this was wrong, that she shouldn't be crying, crying over nothing. It was nothing. Nothing whatsoever. And the noise was starting to get to him. Why was she so upset? If the noise didn't stop, he was going to have to do something about it, something that would silence her once and for all. Because even though he liked how much she followed him around, he couldn't stand the sound of her incessant crying.

It troubled him in ways he couldn't understand. It was almost painful when he heard her words broken by hiccuping sobs, and he didn't know why. He once cared for this child, but in a very different way. Now it was all about control. Anything to make her come when he called, or sit down and shut up when he tired of listening to her. She was his, she belonged to him. She was an object, a toy for his amusement, so why did it bother him so much to hear her cry?

He would stop her from crying, but right now he had other plans, one last hurrah before the curtain closed on Celes' military career, because tonight was the night it all came to an end. He couldn't take it anymore. Kefka would deal with Terra later once he'd finished with Celes.

\-----------------

Kefka made his way upstairs towards the laboratory. Aside from coming in for the occasional medical tests, he hadn't been here very often. There was no need now that the infusion process was complete and Cid had successfully ruined his mind. But there was something up here that he wanted. Something that Terra didn't need to know about.

For the past few weeks he'd been stealing parts from Cid's laboratory, working late into the night on a bizarre device that would enable him to control her. Kefka was insane, but he was also a genius when it came to military strategy and technology. He wasn't as knowledgeable about machines as Cid was, but he'd spent enough time in the laboratory and in the Magitek Research Facility to know how things worked.

He would make her something pretty because she was still his precious doll. He'd been making her clothes and designing her outfits for years. Now all he needed was the perfect accessory to accommodate her lovely attire. Something gold and green that would bring out the color in her eyes. Yes, that would do nicely, and he giggled to himself as he thought about the charming present he was making for her.

He swept through the laboratory, snatching anything that looked useful and piling it into his cloak, using the red and yellow material as a basket to carry the bits of wire and metal he'd stolen. If Cid noticed that Kefka had been stealing from his lab, he didn't say anything about it. No one dared to question Kefka's actions for fear of retaliation. That was one of the reasons why Kefka hated Celes, because she was the only one who was brave enough to stand up to him.

"Not tonight," Kefka muttered, scooping a handful of screws and a small circuit board into his cloak. "Not tonight, little miss glitter blizzard. We'll see how well your sword can absorb my magic when its halfway up your ass!"

He stopped when he neared the filing cabinet in the corner. Kefka knew that his medical records along with Terra's and Celes' were stored in there, and yet he'd never once considered taking a look at them. Why should he? Hadn't he already been through enough when they were still experimenting on him? Why would he want to relieve the agony of those experiments by reading about them? Some things were better off forgotten, but his curiosity got the better of him when he realized that this was his chance to see what Celes had gone through during the infusion process.

Kefka tucked his cloak into the waistband of his pants, freeing his hands so he could look through the drawers in the filing cabinet. He sifted through the files in the top drawer until he found one with his name on it. He was surprised at how thick it was, and was even more surprised when he found that there were several folders bearing his name. He shut the top drawer and opened the second one, only to discover a large folder that had both his and Celes' name on it.

"What the - " Kefka removed the folder and started to read.

_Comparative study_

_Case file number: 23460729_

_Test subjects: Kefka Palazzo and Celes Chere_

_Kefka Palazzo, henceforth known as Subject A, often exhibits violent behavior, anti-social behavior, eccentric dress and grooming rituals, repetitive motions such as rocking and pacing, vocal tics, lack of emotion and inappropriate emotion such as spontaneous laughter, elation, sudden mood swings and hyperactivity._

_Known side effects from Esper enhanced blood transfusions include, but are not limited to: chronic seizures, internal bleeding, coma, migraine, chronic fever, memory loss, weight loss, nausea, vomiting, autoimmune gastritis, tachycardia, anxiety, paranoia,_   _hallucinations, insomnia and_   _extreme psychosis._

_Celes Chere, henceforth known as Subject B, has no known behavioral, mental or emotional issues as a result of the infusion process._

_Known side effects from Esper enhanced blood transfusions include: dizziness, loss of appetite, nausea and weight loss._

_Conclusion: despite being skilled in the art of magical combat, Subject A is a failure. His violence and lack of empathy towards other human beings makes him unfit to serve in the military. Suggest demotion and possible commitment for long term treatment. Emperor Gestahl refuses to allow proper treatment for Subject A's psychiatric disorder._

Kefka stared at the paper for a full minute, his eyes wide and his hands shaking. A failure? They thought he was a failure?

A scream tore from his lips, and the folder he was holding burst into flames. A failure, it said. Ha! He'd show them what a failure he was at tonight's banquet.

\----------------

The room was decorated the same way it had been during his graduation. The table had been set, with banners hanging from the ceiling and a wide variety of food in bowls and serving platters. Kefka sat next to Emperor Gestahl, who was seated at the head of the table. Leo and his father sat opposite them, with Celes occupying the seat next to Regulus. Terra was there as well, sitting next to Kefka because he refused to let her sit next to Celes.

Kefka wouldn't let Terra out of his sight for a minute, and was anxiously drumming his fingers on the table, his eyes darting back and forth from Terra to Celes as he watched the girls conversing with each other. He hated bringing her with him to social gatherings, and yet he couldn't leave her behind while he attended the banquet. Everything about his current situation seemed wrong, his mind at war with itself as his instincts screamed at him to get her out of here.

Terra said she wanted this, that she wanted to be there for Celes and celebrate with her. If this was what she wanted, if it made her happy, well, that was a good thing, wasn't it? And yet there were all these people. So many people, he thought, tapping his foot on the floor and glancing back at Terra. Good. She's still here. Everything is fine. It's fine, he told himself, reaching for the glass of wine in front of him and taking a sip.

His eyes were still focused on her as he drank. He set the glass on the table, watching her, watching them, wondering how long it would be until they could go home. He listened to their conversation, nodding occasionally whenever someone spoke to him. He wasn't really paying attention to what they were saying. He just smiled and nodded, doing his best to act like he gave a damn about what was happening around him, when all along his thoughts kept drifting back to Terra, always Terra, and that blond friend of hers.

They said he was a failure. They said he should be committed. Kefka always wondered what those extra rooms were for in the back of the Magitek Research Facility Hospital, the ones with the locked doors and iron bars on the windows. Now he knew what they were there for, and that if Cid had his way there would be a room waiting for him with his name on it.

One by one the people at the table stood up, raising their glasses and making speeches.

A failure. He was a failure.

Voices and applause, Celes thanking everyone for their kind words.

"Palazzo?"

The General started, looking wildly around the room as though he were confused as to who was speaking to him. Did someone say his name? Or was it one of the voices? He couldn't be sure anymore. His stomach was churning and he was sweating profusely. Kefka tugged on the red and yellow ruff around his neck, then looked over at Gestahl and saw that the Emperor was staring at him. They all were. Oh god, it happened again, didn't it? He zoned out and forgot where he was. Why did this keep happening? Why, why, why,  _why?_

"Is there something you'd like to say, Palazzo?"

Kefka stared at him, his mouth opened slightly as he tried to find his voice. And then he saw her, his eyes moving down the table towards the spot where Celes was sitting.

There she was, the perfect Rune Knight. Oh, how he wanted to strangle her, watching her lips turn blue as her eyes rolled back in her head. Or maybe he could take one of those icicles she conjured and drive it into her chest. And Leo, precious Leo who thought he was too good for magic. Leo, who had tried to take away his favorite toy.

"Yes, I would like to say something." Kefka stood up, a vile sneer curling his lips as he raised his glass and began his speech. "I'd like to share with you a few of the things I hate. I hate everyone here. I hate everyone that's not here. I hate the people that are currently breathing. I hate the people that aren't currently breathing. I hate anyone who's ever owned a cat, anyone who's ever owned a dog, anyone who's ever had a face, anyone who's ever worn clothes, I hate the people who haven't worn clothes, I hate them. In fact I hate you," he said, looking directly at Celes. "While you're sitting there with your snacks, with your cold drink that was brought to you by some low life servant because you're fifteen years old and a better Magitek Knight than I'll ever be, I want you to think about how I hate you so much that I... I..."

His hands started shaking. A muscle twitched over his left eye, and the glass suddenly shattered in his hand.

"I hate you!" Kefka shouted. "I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate you! And you!" He turned to Leo and made a rude gesture with both hands. "I never liked you! You mealymouthed crotch pheasant. I'd like to split your belly open, tear out your insides, light them on fire, then piss on them to put out the flames!"

The scene quickly dissolved into chaos as Kefka launched himself across the table, screaming as he conjured a roaring ball of flames. Leo slid out of his seat, ducking beneath the ball of fire as it soared overhead. Thinking fast, Celes drew her sword, swinging it like a baseball bat and striking the fireball in midair. An explosion of burning embers erupted overhead, her sword glowing as she absorbed his magic.

Kefka hit the floor, landing catlike on all fours as he went sliding across the rug. He let out a vicious snarl, charging at Celes, only to be met halfway by Leo and half a dozen soldiers. They pounced on him, their hands around his wrists, their arms around his waist, and still the mage continued to struggle, howling with rage as the air around him shimmered with rippling waves of scorching heat.

Celes' eyes went wide, and she lowered her sword a fraction of an inch. "Dear god, no! He wouldn't!"

Flames exploded outwards as Kefka's scream rent the air. His high pitched screech shattered the glass in the chandelier, the floor quaking beneath his feet as one by one the glasses on the table cracked and broke. The soldiers that weren't killed in the explosion fell back, releasing him as he charged at Celes.

"Kefka, no!" Terra shouted. But it was too late. He wasn't even hearing her anymore. He was consumed with rage and hatred, his body surrounded by blistering waves of heat. The soldiers couldn't approach him without being burned by the intense heat that was radiaiting from his skin. The only person who could stand against him was Celes, who was protected by her runic skill and ice magic.

Celes froze the air around her, effectively shielding the others from the scorching heat. The curtains behind him burst into flames, and more than a few soldiers took cover behind Celes to escape the fire that was spreading throughout the room. Terra dropped to the floor, using the table for cover as she crawled on her hands and knees to where Leo had collapsed and lay in a heap beside the table. She stopped when a flash of light lit the room, and looked up to see Celes and Kefka fighting on the table.

"You," Kefka growled, glaring at the young knight as she conjured a swirling cloud of snow. "You foolish little girl. Do you have any idea what you're dealing with?" He threw his head back, laughing like a rabid hyena. "I am Satan, I am God, I am Demon, I am Fiend! I am every god that man has ever created because man has created god."

"You're insane!" Celes exclaimed. "They should have never let you serve as General for the Imperial army."

"Am I?" Kefka's eyebrows rose towards his hairline, and he laughed with glee like it was all some sort of joke. "I don't give a damn what you or anyone else thinks of me. I want them to call me crazy. I want this world to burn. I want to stand victoriously over all the burning cities in this world, and laugh as their hopes and dreams are destroyed.

"I want to celebrate each year the anniversary of the destruction of the world. I will bake a cake with the image of our broken world on it, then stab the cake repeatedly and cackle into the night. I will laugh while the remaining people mourn their losses on the anniversary of the world's destruction. I will consume their pain. I won't eat except for the yearly celebration cake.

"I want Leo to show up on my doorstep ten years later, unshaven, an alcoholic, and covered in smallpox. I will laugh and kick his face, then throw him in the basement where he'll eat rats raw until he becomes as feral as a rabid raccoon. After he dies, I will bake him into next year's cake. It will taste horrible, so I will force Terra to eat it while I laugh and watch her consume the body of her dearly departed friend!"

Terra continued her mad dash across the floor, listening to Kefka's insane rant as she crawled across the carpet. She reached Leo in a matter of seconds, and was relieved to see that he hadn't suffered any major injuries. His clothing was singed and his body ached from being thrown across the room, but the majority of the damage had been sustained by his fellow soldiers who shielded him during the attack.

He sat up, groaning and shaking his head. Terra was beside him, holding his arm as she looked up and saw Celes unleash a flurry of snow and raging winds, her Blizzard driving him back as Kefka crossed his arms in front of his face, lowering his head and conjuring a shield that reflected her magic back at her.

"We've got to stop him before he destroys everything in the entire palace." Leo looked up as the sound of footsteps broke through the chaos and confusion. More soldiers had arrived, followed by a group of palace guards. Gestahl was screaming, ordering them to subdue the crazed magician. "Dammit!" he hissed between his teeth. "He's sending them to their death! There's no way they can stand against Kefka. He'll slaughter them all like pigs."

Celes dodged the reflected snowstorm, taking to the air as Kefka chased her around the room. She raised her hands above her head, a second wave of snow and ice forming in the palms of her hands. She thrust her hands forward, releasing an onslaught of razor sharp ice crystals, most of which melted when they came in contact with the heat that surrounded his body, but some of them found their target, piercing his skin and shredding his clothes.

Kefka dropped like a stone, blood pouring from his wounds as the table broke under his weight. He was still for several seconds, groaning as he tried to shake off Celes' attack. Meanwhile Leo was quickly trying to formulate a plan to stop the deranged clown. He knew Kefka wouldn't stay down long, and that he had to figure out a way to stop to Kefka's violent rampage before he started moving again.

By now the second wave of soldiers had arrived, followed closely by a dozen or so palace guards. Kefka stirred and lifted his head a few inches off the table, his eyes burning with azure flames. He conjured a stream of fire from the palm of his hand, burning through the soldiers like they were dry wheat.

Leo started as someone placed their hand on his shoulder, and looked over to see Cid on his hands and knees beside the broken table.

"If you're thinking about stopping Kefka, I can help. I knew this day would come. I've been telling Gestahl for years that Kefka is unstable and is liable to have a nervous breakdown. Which is why I came prepared for just such an occasion." Cid reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a syringe that was filled with a powerful sedative. "This should be enough to knock him out while we transport him to the hospital."

Terra cringed and buried her face in Leo's jacket. None of this felt real anymore. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare, wake up and be five years old again, with Kefka reading to her and bringing her cookies from the palace kitchens.

"Terra." Someone was shaking her. She didn't even realize that she had started sobbing into the sleeve Leo's jacket. "Terra, come on. We could use your help with this."

"No!" Terra cried. "No, I don't want to hurt him!"

Dr. Cid sighed, patting her back as she broke down in tears. "It's alright, Terra. You don't have to do this if you don't want to." He had nothing but sympathy for this poor girl. He knew how much it hurt her to see him like this, knowing that her best friend, the man who cared about her and had raised her since she was a child, had become a monster.

"Come on," said Leo. "He's starting to move again. We haven't much time."


	27. Isolation

The guards fell back, fleeing from the onslaught of fire. Kefka heaved his bleeding body off the table, laughing as he watched them run. He'd burn this miserable dump to the ground if he had to. If that's what it took to get Celes then so be it. He didn't care anymore. All that mattered was that she died. Then it was Leo's turn.

He'd rise above them all. He'd show them that he wasn't a failure. His phantom wings twitched, brushing against the layers of fabric on his back. In his mind he was already flying. They didn't see him for what he was. They didn't see his wings flapping as he soared through the air. Only Terra could see him for what he truly was. And as he made it to his feet, Kefka felt a shooting pain racing up his spine, and he screamed, doubling over and falling down on one knee.

The phantom pains rushed outwards, spreading from his spine to his wings. It felt as though the invisible limbs were trying to break through the surface of his skin, and he cursed his luck, knowing that now wasn't the time for his wings to try manifesting themselves.

He grit his teeth, pushing forward through the pain. He had to focus. Celes was preparing to launch another attack, Terra was in tears, and Leo was busy talking to the doctor who had shattered his sanity with his experiments. If he had time, he'd have to finish Cid off as well. Give the good doctor a final farewell, a lovely little parting gift after all he'd done for him, then he could be alone with Terra, finally alone, with no one left to bother him.

Screams of agony filled his ears, the stench of burning flesh and charred fabric filled his nostrils. Such a pleasant aroma, such beautiful music, the many voices scrraming in unison. When all of a sudden the dark skinned man vanished, disappearing into the smoke and flames that was quickly filling up the room. Kefka didn't see him motioning to Celes, the blond girl landing beside him and taking cover behind the broken table.

"Celes!" he shouted. The mage turned in a circle, his eyes darting this way and that. She had to be here somewhere. That little witch would never run from him. It wasn't in her nature to retreat. "Dammit, Celes! Where the hell are you?"

There was a blinding flash, and Leo sprang from behind the table. He swung his sword in an arch above his head and plunged his blade into the floor, unleashing a devestating shockwave that struck Kefka full force, knocking the clown off his feet and sending him crashing into the wall. Before he had the chance to recover, Celes conjured a barrage of icicles and sent them flying towards him.

Kefka screamed when he saw the daggers made from shining ice racing towards him. They drove themselves into his cloak, his pant legs, his sleeves, effectively pinning him down on the floor.

"'Go! Now!" Celes shouted.

The ice was already starting to melt as Kefla struggled to free himself. Her icicles would only hold him for so long, but it was long enough, for now it was Cid's turn.

An ear piercing scream filled the air, and Terra looked up to see Kefka fighting with the doctor as the guards surrounded them, each one trying to hold him down as Kefka screamed and thrashed on the floor. Within a matter of minutes the screams began to die down. Kefka slumped against the doctor, losing consciousness in his arms as the world around him began to fade to black. And all the while Terra was forced to watch from across the room, her eyes wide and her body trembling. She didn't want to watch, but she couldn't look away from the horrific images she was seeing.

They carried him out first, whisking him away just as the medics arrived to treat Kefka's victims, most of which didn't survive the attack. Leo was one of the lucky ones that escaped with only a few bruises and some minor burns. He walked up to Terra, placing a hand on her shoulder as she stood staring at the scene before her.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Terra. But we didn't have any choice. He was going to destroy everything if we didn't stop him."

Terra looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She looked back at the carnage that filled the room, at the bodies being covered with sheets and carried out of the room, then looked back at Leo and shook her head. "No," she murmured. "No, he couldn't..." Her words caught in her throat and she fell against him, sobbing as he put his arm around her. And in that moment she finally realized that the man she knew was gone.

\---------------

The bars that surrounded his bed were taller than usual. He was used to there being a railing on his hospital bed, but this, this was more like a cage. The steel bars were three feet tall, and when he tried to lift his head off the mattress, he discovered a series of restraints holding him down in bed. The straps were connected to various points on the bed, and were wrapped around his wrists, ankles, waist, thighs and chest. He'd been held down with restraints on his wrists and ankles before, but never had he experienced anything like this. There were also mittens on his hands to prevent him from scratching anyone, and a gag had been placed in his mouth, silencing him so he couldn't use his magic.

There was no pillow, no blankets, none of the luxuries he was used to. From where he was lying, Kefka could see a series of bars set in the window in the door, and beyond that there were more bars, like the cell door in a prison. A muffled cry escaped his lips, and he tugged on the restraints. He couldn't sit up, he could barely move. If he really tried, he could raise his hand an inch or two off the mattress, but that was all.

Within minutes someone entered the room. It was Dr. Cid, flanked by a pair of palace guards and accompanied by one of his assistants. Kefka glared at him, his pulse accelerating the moment he laid eyes on the doctor. He started to scream, fighting against the restraints as he tried casting every spell he could think of. But it was no use. He couldn't speak, and therefore he couldn't use his magic.

"Kefka, stop this. You need to remain calm."

But Kefka wouldn't let up. The bed shook and rattled, with Kefka twisting and jerking, struggling to free himself. They had no choice but to tighten the restraints and administer another dose of sedatives. And then he was falling, sinking down into the blackness that surrounded him.

He didn't know how many hours had passed before he woke up in the same room, still strapped down and imprisoned in this steel cage. He was groggy and felt fairly sick to his stomach. His vision blurred, and suddenly a bright light pierced the haze that clouded his vision, causing him to flinch and turn his head away from the light source.

"Kefka, can you hear me?"

The mage blinked and looked at him in confusion. It took a moment for him to realize that the figure leaning over him was Dr. Cid.

"Are you going to behave this time?"

Kefka appeared to wilt right before his very eyes. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move, and his head was aching with such tremendous pain he thought he might be sick. Dr. Cid had purposely overmedicated him in an attempt to keep him calm, leaving the crazed magician in a stupor as he stared vacantly at the wall.

He was broken and defeated, lying there strapped to the bed as the doctor continued his examination. He slowly blinked his eyes, a thin trail of saliva trickling from the corner of his mouth and soaking the gag they'd stuffed between his painted lips. He couldn't remember a time in which he hadn't been poked and prodded, strapped down and injected with god knows what. This was all he knew. It was all he had left now that his memories had rotted and turned to dust.

He shifted slightly when the doctor felt along his left shoulder, and hissed with pain as Cid's fingers pulled back the corner of his hospital gown, revealing a thick bandage that covered a gash on his shoulder. This wound, like the other wounds he'd sustained in battle, had been caused when Celes' razor sharp ice crystals sliced through his flesh.

Kefka was growing restless as the doctor peeled off the bandages and applied fresh dressings to his wounds. His back was aching, and his shoulder blades itched like he had a bad case of poison ivy. He didn't like anyone touching him, especially not the area around his back and shoulders.

The itch was getting worse, and Kefka tried rubbing his back against the mattress. A series of soft whimpers escaped his lips. He felt trapped in here with no way to tell them what was wrong. Not that it mattered anymore. They didn't listen to him anyway. Terra was the only one who listened when he complained about how much his back itched. She even gave him back massages to help relieve the tension when his muscles were sore.

"Kefka, stop. Just relax. Lie still for a moment."

It was an order, not a request. Normally he spoke in a quiet, gentle tone. But not this time. This time he'd gone too far, and they weren't going to tolerate anymore of his violent behavior. Kefka had to remain calm or else they would fill him full of sedatives and send him back to dream land.

Kefka wasn't eager for another round of sedatives, but the itch he felt in his upper back was driving him crazy. He tugged on the restraints, trying to lift his hands so he could scratch his back, all while muttering obscenities around the gag in his mouth. But it was no use. He sighed in defeat, letting his hands sink into the plush mattress after only a minute or two of struggling against the restraints. He was exhausted, and if he kept it up he'd soon find himself on the receiving end of another painful injection.

He was still for several minutes, listening to the conversation between the doctor and the nurse. Dr. Cid said that he wasn't allowed any visitors, and that he was to be kept in isolation for a period of seventy-two hours while they monitored him. After that he would be moved to a private room in the back. They would keep him there until they felt it was safe to release him, which could be months or years depending on the severity of his condition. 

Kefka closed his eyes, letting his thoughts drift as his mind wandered over the events that had taken place during the last few days. As usual he couldn't remember much of what had happened. He remembered the papers in Cid's filing cabinet, and how the medical report said he was a failure. He remembered the look of horror on Terra's face as she watched him set fire to the curtains in the great hall, and he wondered what she would think of him if she saw him now.

Would she still love him? Would she think he was a failure? For once in his life Kefka was grateful that she wasn't standing there beside him. He didn't want her to see him like this, not after he'd fallen so far and changed so much from the person he once was.

\---------------

"Come on, Kefka. It's time to get up now. We're taking you to your room."

His eyes were barely open when they lifted him out of the bed. He was aware of the fact that there were people in the room with him, unfastening the straps and checking his vital signs before helping him out of bed. But he choose to ignore them in favor of feigning sleep, because he really didn't have the strength to deal with them right now, and all he wanted was to be left alone so he could rest.

The sedatives they'd given him made him groggy and weak, and by now he was barely able to sit up in bed, let alone lift his feet off the floor and walk twenty feet down the hall to his new room. His vision blurred, and for a while he wasn't sure of himself or his surroundings. He felt hands around his waist, lifting him up and placing him in some sort of chair. The room went dark and his head lolled to the side. Momemts later he felt someone tightening the straps around his wrists. Apparently they didn't trust him well enough to let him walk to his room.

"Kefka, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?"

Another strap, this time around his waist.

The mage opened his eyes, and saw that he'd been strapped in a wheelchair. It was just as well. He couldn't walk anyway. Which actually made the whole situation ridiculous because he wasn't likely to attack anyone. Not like this, and not while he could barely hold his head up for more than five minutes at a time.

They took him to a room down the hall, then proceeded to let him sit there for a few minutes before unfastening the straps and helping him into bed. Kefka all but collapsed onto mattress, which was considerably softer than the bed in the other room. And this bed had a pillow, a nice, soft pillow with sheets and blankets.

"This is your new room. You'll be staying here while we work on getting you the care and treatment that you need. A staff member will come check on you every thirty minutes. If you're in the shower, he'll knock until you shout your own name. If you're asleep he'll write it down and be on his way. Behave yourself and you'll be allowed to have visitors. Is that understood?"

"Yes yes, I understand," Kefka mumbled, turning his head so that he was gazing at the wall. This was all so boring and he just wanted to be left alone so he could hunker down in his soft, warm blankets and sleep until his head stopped hurting.

"If you've been obnoxious or disruptive, they will check on you every fifteen minutes. Then ten. Any more than that and a staff member will be placed in the room with you at all times. They won't touch or harass you, they're just there to make sure you don't hurt someone or - "

"Or lack for a chess partner should a mandatory game situation ever arise." Kefka's eyes slowly shifted towards the doctor. He grinned. "Just saying."

Dr. Cid sighed. "Kefka, please, we're just trying to help you get better."

Kefka shifted slightly in bed, and after digging his heels into the mattress and struggling for a moment, he managed to prop himself up on his elbows. "Look, Cid, we both know that I'm not getting out of here any time soon. Chances are I'm never getting out. Not unless I figure out a way to escape, which is entirely possible should I decide I've overstayed my welcome. But for now I'm staying put. So why don't you shove it and let me figure out how this place works on my own?"

A frown creased the corner of his lips, and Cid took a step back, trying to distance himself from the crazed magician. "You behave yourself, Kefka. Terra keeps asking when she can see you. She's worried about you. And the only way you're going to see her is if you behave."

"Terra." Kefka's voice was low, barely above a whisper. He didn't stop to think about what would happen to her if he finally succeeded in getting himself thrown in a mental institution. The one person who was always on his mind had somehow escaped his thoughts, and now he wasn't sure if he'd ever see her again.

If only he had completed the project he was working on. If only he hadn't blacked out and forgotten where he was. There were so many gaps and holes in his memory, it was difficult for him to focus and keep track of where he was. And that was a truly frightening thing, for without Terra it would be next to impossible for him to keep his thoughts straight. He had to get her back and make sure she didn't leave again. The slave crown was the only way. He didn't trust himself anymore. But with the crown in place he knew she'd never leave him. She would be his forever, his lovely little doll, and no one would ever take her away from him.


	28. In Transition

The door locked behind him as Dr. Cid exited the room, letting Kefka know that he really was trapped in there. The mage sighed and collapsed onto his back, his head still aching and his stomach churning uncomfortably. No one ever thought to ask him if he was experiencing any side effects from the medication. Of course not. Why would they listen to the Emperor's court jester? Oh, don't mind him. Kefka's insane. Pay no attention to the delusional clown who swears he's in the process of sprouting wings. There's nothing more to see here, people. You can all go home now.

Kefka groaned and rolled over onto his belly. He squeezed his eyes shut as a sudden wave of dizziness made him grip the mattress and hold on for dear life. When the wave of nausea and dizziness began to subside, Kefka opened his eyes and looked down at his hands. It came as no surprise that his makeup had been cleaned off, and that someone had trimmed his long, claw-like fingernails in order to prevent him from scratching anyone. No matter, they'd grow back in a few days.

He reached under the fabric of his hospital gown and clawed at his back, his nails digging into his skin in a futile attempt to calm the itch that was creeping up his back. It felt as though something was alive and crawling beneath the surface of his skin, like some kind of parasitic worm gnawing at his flesh. He buried his face in the pillow to muffle his screams, biting the soft material as a shooting pain flared to life in his shoulder blades.

No one could tell him that this wasn't real. His eyes were watering from the pain, and all the while it felt like insects were boring through his flesh, biting and clawing their way to the surface.

"Terra."

Her name escaped his lips in the form of a pitiful whine. He took a deep breath and started sobbing, tears streaming down his cheeks as he called her name. It wasn't long until one of the staff members came in to see what was wrong, and was met with the sight of Kefka having a full blown tantrum. He was screaming and wailing like a child. The only thing that kept him from getting violent was the fact that Cid had heavily medicated him, leaving him in such a weakened state that he was unable to fight off the doctor and nurses as they held him down.

Cid held up a hand, shaking his head as he looked over at the nurse. "Let's wait a minute before giving him anything. The medication is still working and he should tire himself out soon."

The nurses looked at him with uncertainty as Kefka screamed, "I want her! Bring her to me or so help me I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you!"

"You're not doing yourself any favors, Kefka," said Cid, speaking loudly so as to be heard overtop of Kefka's harsh wails.

Within a matter of minutes Kefka's childish tantrum began to subside. They slowly moved away from the bed, watching as his breathing slowed and his eyes began to close. He couldn't fight them. Not like this. The best he could manage was short, spontaneous fits of aggression that did nothing but prolong the amount of time he'd have to wait until he was allowed to see Terra again.

"I think we need to adjust his medication," said Cid. "He needs something that'll prevent him from having these sudden outbursts. If we can manage to keep him calm for an extended period of time, then I think it will be safe for Terra to visit him."

\--------------

The next several days passed in a haze of dizziness and confusion. Kefka was tired, and the medication they put him on made him unable to focus or stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. During the brief moments that he was awake, he would lie in bed moaning and clawing at his back until he tore his skin open, his bedsheets stained with flecks of blood as he repeatedly scratched himself. When they saw what he was doing, they trimmed his nails again and put mittens on his hands to prevent him from scratching himself. However this only increased his discomfort, because now he had no way to ease the pain and itching in his back.

The doctor and the nurses couldn't figure out why he kept scratching himself. There was nothing in the room that he was allergic to, and to the best of their knowledge Kefka had no known allergies to any sort of food, soap, or anything that would cause this sort of behavior. The medication didn't list itching as a possible side effect, leaving them to conclude that he had developed another bizarre habit as a result of the madness that had been slowly eating away at his mind for the last eight years.

It wasn't long until they realized that Kefka's fingernails grew at an alarming rate, and would return to their original length within seven to ten days of being trimmed. A nurse entered his room one morning and discovered that his nails had grown so long that they had pierced the mittens on his hands, and were protruding from the thick material like claws on a dragon. She also discovered that Kefka had shredded his back with his nails, leaving bright red patches of blood on the back of his hospital gown.

It was an awful sight, seeing him sitting there in bed with his hands covered in blood, grinning and giggling like some deranged lunatic. After another round of sedatives, they managed to clean and dress his wounds, then trimmed his nails and slipped another pair of mittens on his hands. But Kefka's troubles didn't end there. The wounds became infected, and in order to cure the infection the nurses had to change his dressings and apply antibiotic cream twice a day. Needless to say Kefka was not pleased with this development, and went out of his way to cause a scene every time they changed his bandages.

If they thought he was going to get better in there, they were wrong. His neurotic habits were getting worse, his nightmares were increasing in frequency, and whenever someone looked in on him he was either sitting on the bed, humming and rocking back and forth, or trying to pick at the scabs on his back.

"Get Terra in here," Cid told the nurse. "Maybe she can bring him to his senses."

The nurse hesitated, glancing at the door as she heard Kefka's wicked cackle drifting down the hall. "Are you sure about that? I thought he wasn't allowed to have visitors until we could get the situation under control."

Dr. Cid shook his head, his expression grim. "He's getting worse, and if we wait any longer we may lose him completely. Leo says Kefka responds to her and appears to care for her. If we bring her in here she might be able to get through to him."

"And if it doesnt work?"

There was a long, silent pause.

"Doctor?"

"Get her in here. We'll figure out what to do after we see how he responds to her."

\-------------------

Terra hadn't seen Kefka for over a month, not since his violent outburst during Celes' banquet. At first she wanted nothing more than to be left alone, as she sat in her room, crying and hugging her plush moogle. The worn, ragged animal reminded her of him when she looked in its eyes, when she stroked its soft fur and ran her fingers along the stitches in its back where Kefka had sewn the wing on. She wondered if he would be allowed to leave the hospital, or if they would lock him up and keep him there for the rest of his life. They said she would be allowed to visit him once he started getting better, but that was over a month ago, and every night she spent alone felt like an eternity.

Nights were long, with no sounds or voices to fill the silence that remained now that Kefka was gone. He was always so loud and obnoxious, and without him Terra found it next to impossible to fall asleep. She was used to the noise, to the constant muttering and cursing that followed him wherever he went. He was always talking, always laughing, singing and overflowing with such energy and enthusiasm that she doubted if he was capable of sitting still for more than five minutes at a time. The noise and laughter had filled the house for so many years that it was like walking into a barren wasteland every time she came home.

There was nothing here for her anymore, just a lot of emptiness and silence to remind her of everything she lost. Silence, and a doll laying on the living room rug that Kefka had left behind on the night of Celes' banquet. Her eyes were drawn towards it the moment she entered the room, and a fresh wave of tears formed in the corners of her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she knelt down and picked up the forgotten toy. She wondered if Kefka would become like this discarded object, alone and forgotten, left to rot in some dark corner of the world because no one wanted him anymore.

She was the only person who cared about him, and yet they wouldn't let her in to remind him that he wasn't alone. Terra knew that he had problems with his memory, and that his ability to recall things that happened more than a month ago were flawed at best. If they left him alone long enough, would he forget about her completely? He had nothing left to remind him of her. No doll to snuggle with and sleep with at night, no beaded charm to wear in his hair. They'd taken everything from him and gave it all to Terra, telling her to hold onto it until he was well enough to be released.

And that doll, that strange doll that Kefka carried with him wherever he went. Now that it was hers to hold onto, Terra finally had the opportunity to get a better look at it, and was shocked by how much it resembled her. Kefka had dyed the doll's hair bright green, and made clothes for it closely resembled her favorite outfit that she always wore. There was a pink sash around the doll's waist, and a red, polka dot bow in its hair. Terra wasn't sure how to feel about him having a doll that looked liked her. She found it unnerving, to say the least, and quickly put it on the shelf in his bedroom so she wouldn't have to look at it.

She started going for nightly walks throughout the palace. Anything to escape those horrid dolls and the feeling that they were slowly creeping up on her. She'd spend hours walking the halls, until she fell asleep in some dark hallway, curled up in the corner and clutching her plush moogle. She knew she was too old for that silly toy, but it comforted her and brought back pleasant memories of the days before the experiments began.

That's where she was when the nurse found her, huddled in the corner and about to fall asleep. The nurse told her that she was wanted in the Magitek Research Facility Hospital, and that Dr. Cid had given her permission to visit Kefka. She warned her not to get her hopes up, stating that Kefka was unresponsive and that they needed someone to bring him back to reality.

"Unresponsive?" Terra echoed. "What do you mean he's unresponsive? Is he not talking or is he just out of it?"

"You'll see," the nurse said, taking her by the hand and leading her down the hall.

\-----------------

The first thing she noticed upon entering Kefka's room were the straps around his wrists and ankles. They had secured him in the chair with restraints, even though the mage was borderline catatonic and wouldn't respond to the people around him. His head was down, his chin resting against his chest, with strands of long, blond hair falling into his face. He was still wearing mittens on his hands, and the only clothing he had on was a hospital gown and a pair of socks.

He looked as though he hadn't eaten in several days, and had lost quite a bit of weight since entering the hospital. Which was troubling because Kefka didn't weigh much to begin with.

Terra approached the chair, wondering if he was asleep and if he would respond to the sound of her voice. She tried calling his name, softly at first, just to see if he was awake. At first there was no response, but then he slowly lifted his head, his glazed eyes staring at her from beneath curtains of blond hair.

He was silent, staring at her in confusion as she knelt down in front of him. She wanted to hold his hand, but stopped when she saw the mittens he was wearing. She settled for brushing the hair out of his face, revealing a layer of stubble on his cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. But there was something strange about the discoloration around his eyes. And when she moved closer to get a better look at him, she noticed that the dark discoloration resembled blotches of makeup that he wore over his white face paint.

There were blemishes on his skin that matched the discoloration around his eyes. These unsightly blemishes were small and difficult to notice, and had mostly formed around his wrists and ankles. They looked like bruises, darkening his skin with patches of bluish-purple hues. But how on earth did he get them? The only thing Terra could think of was that he'd gotten them while trying to free himself from the restraints. It never occurred to her that Kefka might be in transition, his human form slowly fading away as he began a process that would take years to complete.

She looked at him for several seconds, not knowing what to say or how to begin a conversation with him. She couldn't think of anything appropriate to say to him, and asking him how he was doing when the man was half-starved and out of his mind didn't seem like a good idea.

"Oh, Kefka." A half-strangled sob escaped her lips, her eyes filling with tears as she looked down at the restraints around his wrists. "What have they done to you?" she whispered, barely able to hide the emotion in her voice.

"What have they done to me?" He cocked his head to the side, giving her a tired, bored look as though he weren't interested in their conversation. "What haven't they done to me might be a better question."

Terra sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes. She motioned towards the mittens on his hands. "Why are you wearing those?"

"What? These?" His eyes slowly traveled the length of his arm until he spied the mitten on his left hand. "No reason," he said, grinning at her like a mischievous child. "I thought it would be a clever fashion statement. They are rather nice, don't you think? I'll admit they were nuisance at first, but now I think I like them."

"Do they keep them on you all the time?"

"Yes." Kefka shifted slightly in his seat. "Sometimes they'll remove them during meals. But most of the time they leave them on and spoon feed me like I'm some sort of helpless child." He paused, leaning back and rubbing his shoulder against the chair. "I'm not helpless, Terra," he said, his lips twisting into a fierce snarl. "I know how to get out of these things, but the mittens make it difficult for me to slide my wrists out of the restraints."

"You can escape from there?"

Kefka didn't miss the nervous tremor in her voice when she spoke. Was she afraid of him? No, that's not right. His doll wasn't supposed to fear him. She was supposed to obey his every command without question, a mindless little puppet, devoid of thought and emotions.

"I can," he said slowly. "When I feel like it. The problem is my wrists. Make the restraints too tight and they cut off my circulation. Too loose and I'll get out in seconds. If they aren't adjusted properly, I can slip out whenever I want."

Her gaze drifted towards the blemishes on his wrists. She was convinced that they were bruises, and that he had gotten them during one of his escape attempts. "Aren't they feeding you well in here?" she asked, now anxious to change the subject. "You look like you haven't had a decent meal in days, Kefka."

"That's because I haven't," he spat. "The medication they give me puts me to sleep. I can't stay awake long enough to finish eating. Which is fine with me, because being sent to dream land is better than forcing myself to eat the disgusting slop they call food."

"What are they feeding you?"

"Oatmeal," he said, trying once again to scratch his back on the chair. "Scrambled eggs, vanilla pudding. I hate hate hate hate it. All of it. I have to force myself to eat it. When I can stay awake, that is. I need some from of sustenance to keep my strength up." He wriggled about some more, all the while complaining about how much his back hurt and itched.

Kefka glanced at the door, halting his movements and staring at the doctor who was watching him through the window. "Whenever I start moving around too much they fill me full of sedatives that put me to sleep. I have to be careful in here, Terra. I've learned that. Most of them don't understand that I'm simply trying to scratch my back. Most of the time. I could be up to something. You never know."

Terra hesitated before moving closer to him, her hand hovering a few inches above his back. She wanted to help, but her instincts were warning her not to get too close.

"Go on," Kefka hissed, leaning forward and allowing her to scratch his back. "Hurry, before they come in here."

For the first time in her life she was apprehensive about getting close to him. She hadn't forgotten the screams, or the dozens of soldiers he incinerated with his magic. Most of the soldiers that survived the initial attack later died from their injuries. Leo was one of the few who managed to escape without serious injury. And if it weren't for Celes' quick thinking and fast reflexes, the death toll could have been much higher.

Terra reached towards him, and was about to slide her hand between him and the chair when the door opened.

Kefka looked up and saw Dr. Cid enter the room, followed by a nurse and a member of palace security. His body tensed, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair. He was tired, but his eyes still burned with the fierce hatred that had kept alive during his confinement in this miserable dump. He hated them. He hated every last one of them for taking her away. And in his mind this only proved that he was right, that they were trying to keep her away from him.

She was everything to him. She always had been and she always would be. Even when he reached rock bottom with no way out and nowhere to go, she was there. He didn't know why she kept coming back, but all that mattered was that she did. And when the time came for her leave, Kefka became enraged and started threatening to kill them if they didn't bring her back.

Dr. Cid quickly ushered Terra out of the room, letting the nurse handle the situation before things got out of control. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he apologized. "However I am extremely grateful that you were able to get him to respond. He's been out of it for so long now that we feared we were going to lose him."

Terra put her head down, muttering something under her breath as they walked down the hall.

"Excuse me?" Cid furrowed his brow, leaning in close so he could hear what she was saying. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

"He needs me," Terra murmured. "I've taken care of him longer than you have. I know what foods to give him so he'll start eating. I know which books and toys he likes. I can help you take care of him."

"Terra, I don't think you understand. Kefka is - "

"Sick, I know," she said, cutting him off in mid-sentence. "But he's been sick longer than you realize. I cared for him before you knew there was something wrong. He confided in me. I was his friend. I don't know what he sees me as now that he's lost his memories, but I - " Her voice cracked, and she took a deep breath, tears streaming down her face as she fought to maintain her composure. "Please, Cid. Let me take care of him. He's like a child. You just have to know how to deal with him."

Kefka was still screaming, but his voice was hoarse, his strength failing as he tried to escape and go after her. This was no way for him to live, either strapped in a chair or tied down in bed while the nurse attempted to feed him. He was spending more time asleep than awake, and if it weren't for Terra they might never have gotten him to come out of the stupor he'd been in during the past few days.

"Listen to me, Terra. I'm all for you helping Kefka get better, but what you have to understand is that he may be beyond our ability to help. Even if he recovers enough that we can reduce the amount of medication he's taking, I seriously doubt that he will be allowed to leave the facility. To make matters worse, Emperor Gestahl has stripped him of his title and given the job to Leo. He has nothing, Terra. It's all gone now."

Terra shook her head. "You're wrong. Kefka hasn't lost everything. He still has me. And I'm not going to abandon him and leave him to rot in some mental facility."

"Terra, please - "

"You saw how he reacted to me. He needs help, Cid, and I'm the only one who can get him to respond."

The doctor sighed. "Alright, Terra. I'll let you take care of him. God knows the poor man can use all the help he can get. Just don't expect him to have some sort of miraculous, overnight recovery, Terra."

"Thank you." Terra put her arms around him, her eyes bright with tears as she hugged the aging scientist. "Thank you so much, Cid. I promise I'll do everything I can for him."

Cid gently patted her back. "I know, Terra," he said softly. "I know. Let's just hope it's enough to have a positive effect on him."


	29. A Gift

Dr. Cid had mixed feelings about letting Terra help with Kefka. There were times he wondered if it was a bad idea to let her visit him, because whenever it came time for her to go home, Kefka would start screaming and demand that she be returned to him at once. However these screaming fits only lasted a few minutes, due to the medication he was taking which made it impossible for him to stay awake for long periods of time.

He was also concerned about the way Kefka behaved once Terra gave him his favorite doll. He believed that playing with dolls helped encourage Kefka's childish behavior, and there were times when Kefka did nothing but sit on the floor, humming and rocking back and forth while stroking the doll's hair. But the doll helped keep him calm. So for now Cid was willing to let him keep his favorite toy.

Then there was the issue of medication. Dr. Cid prescribed sedatives that were to be given twice a day with meals. The nurse would grind the pills into a powder and mix them with his food. If Kefka refused to eat then it meant skipping a dose of medication, which resulted in some rather explosive tantrums once he was coherent enough to start hurling death threats at everyone in the facility.

It didn't take long for Cid to realize that most of Kefka's problems stemmed from an obsession with Terra. And no matter what he tried, nothing seemed to remedy the situation. If Kefka was left alone, he became unresponsive and refused to eat, speak or move. If Terra was allowed to visit him, Kefka would throw a tantrum whenever she left, then proceed to pace the floor until his medication kicked in or sit in the corner with his doll until he fell asleep. The pattern continued until they worked out a schedule that involved Terra coming to visit him during the morning and late afternoon. She would visit him after he'd taken his medication and leave when he fell asleep. This prevented Kefka from getting upset and throwing a fit every time she walked out the door.

But although they were able to work out a schedule for when he could to have visitors, Kefka was still paranoid, and had managed to convince himself that they were trying to keep him and Terra apart. He believed the day would come when he wouldn't be allowed to see her anymore, and no amount of comfort or reassurance from Terra could help ease his mind.

"Lies," he spat, rocking back and forth while tangling his fingers in the doll's hair. "All of it. Lies. They know what they're doing, keeping me in here. It's like they're teasing me, letting me see you for a few hours each day. It's like dangling a piece of meat in front of a starving animal, always pulling it away before I can snatch it." He made a snatching motion with his left hand, startling Terra as his fingers closed around thin air.

Terra sighed. It was like he wasn't even hearing her anymore. She watched in silence as his eyes began to close. His movements slowed, his head nodded, and he blinked his eyes, looking at her in confusion as though he forgot that she was there. She honestly wished that she could stay with him, never leaving his side until he was well again. It might take months or even years for that to happen, but it would be worth it for one last glimpse at the man he used to be. Even if she could only see him for a moment, knowing that all they had would dissolve the instant she turned away, it would mean the world to her if he could look at her and remember who she was, if he could remember who they were, and hold it in his heart like he used to.

"Terra," he murmured, his voice low and groggy. "There's something I want you to do for me. I've hidden a device in my room that I've been working on for quite some time. I want you to go there, find it, make sure that no one has taken it while I've been in here."

"Where have you hidden it?" she asked without hesitation.

"In my closet, on the highest shelf beneath a pile of spare blankets. I put it there, hoping that it would be safe until I finished it. But it's not a very good hiding spot, and I don't trust them not to steal it while I'm gone."

"What is it?" She was curious as to what he was making. Was it a gift? A surprise he didn't want anyone to see? Or was this just Kefka being paranoid?

Kefka lifted his head, his harsh gaze penetrating the depths of her bright green eyes. He seemed to consider her for a moment before speaking. "Do you remember the charm you made for me?"

Terra nodded. "Yes, I remember making it for you. It's in my jewelry box. They gave it to me, along with the rest of your belongings when they admitted you to the hospital."

A twisted smile formed on Kefka's lips. "I'm making you a present, just like you made me. I doubt if they'd let me work on it while I'm in here. It's just as well, though. I don't want any of them seeing it until it's finished. I didn't want you to see it until it's finished. But now that I've been put in here, I guess I have no choice. I want you to keep it safe, Terra. And whatever you do, do not let anyone see it. It is very valuable, and I don't want anyone to steal it."

"Valuable?"

"Yes." His smile spread from ear to ear, and he started giggling. "But don't bother asking too many questions. It'll spoil the surprise." He quieted down after only a few seconds of childish giggling. His eyes closed, and Kefka leaned forward with his head down and his chin resting against his chest. For a moment Terra thought he was asleep. But when she put her hand on his shoulder, he lifted his head and opened his eyes. "So sorry," he mumbled. "I think I dozed off."

"Come on, Kefka. Let's get you to bed."

He looked more like a boy than a thirty-two year old man as he held his doll with one hand, rubbing his eyes and yawning as Terra helped him into bed. He fussed and whined, kicking the blankets off and complaining that it was too early to go to bed. But the moment she got him settled he began to doze off, his eyes drifting closed as he listened to the sound of her voice.

"Kefka," she murmured, stroking his hair as he gazed into her eyes, seemingly mesmerized by the sound of her voice. "I know you're worried about me leaving, but I will always be here for you."

"Then stay," he said, covering her hand with his. "Stay with me. Let me protect you. They don't give a damn about you. I know I am the one, the only one, who can keep you safe."

Terra leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead just as he was drifting off to sleep. "Please don't worry about me," she said, her words barely registering in his mind. "I love you. You're like family to me. And I promise I will never leave."

\--------------

Emperor Gestahl sat at the head of the table, looking quite worn and exhausted as Dr. Cid handed him a file containing Kefka's latest medical report. He opened the file, looking at it briefly before frowning and sliding it across the table.

It was beginning to feel as though his carefully constructed plans were falling apart. Not only was Kefka incapable of leading the Imperial army, but his hopes for world domination were fading now that his precious pet had been locked up in a mental institution. Celes was a fine soldier, and Leo had more than proven himself worthy of his new title. But they didn't have Kefka's bloodlust, nor did they desire to destroy everything within a five hundred mile radius.

"Get that out of here," Gestahl spat in annoyance. "Unless there has been a significant change in his condition, we have nothing to discuss."

Leo was seated farther down the table, next to Emperor Gestahl. He glanced at the file then looked at Cid. "May I?" he asked, reaching for the file.

Dr. Cid looked at Gestahl for confirmation. "Your Highness?"

The Emperor motioned for him to take it. He then sighed heavily and leaned back in his seat. "All I wanted was one perfect soldier. Just one, Marquez." He held up a finger, then brought his hand down and motioned to the file Leo was reading. "And this is what I get."

"Your Majesty, I repeatedly stated that Kefka was heading for a nervous breakdown. You knew as well as I that he was unstable, and yet you kept sending him on missions. You refused to allow treatment for his condition, and now - "

"Condition?" Gestahl raised an eyebrow, glaring at him from across the table. "It's been three months, Marquez, and you still haven't been able to provide me with an accurate diagnosis. The report lists everything from generalized anxiety disorder to bipolar disorder with psychotic features. The latest update you've given me has a possible diagnosis of - "

"Schizoaffective disorder, bipolar subtype?" Leo looked up from the medical report, his eyes wide. "Is this information correct?"

"It's the closest we've come to obtaining an accurate diagnosis." The doctor sighed, shaking his head as he looked down at the table. "He may have every one of those disorders. Which makes choosing the right medication extremely difficult. The sedatives help keep him under control, but they make him too tired to function for long periods of time, and have at times caused him to experience bouts of depression. Giving him antidepressants threw him into a manic fit. So we switched to giving him a lower dosage of sedatives in hopes it would prevent him from having another episode."

Leo went back to reading, taking note of the long list of medication and failed treatments.

"The only thing that produces positive results is letting him spend time with Terra," Cid continued. "She wants to take him home. She says that none of this is necessary and that he'd do better if he was at home with her."

"And do you agree with her?" asked Gestahl. "Do you think it would be wise to release him after the way he behaved during the banquet? He's lucky he hasn't been thrown in prison for murdering more than a dozen of my finest soldiers!" His voice was steadily rising in volume, anger lacing his tone as he all but yelled at the scientist. He hated having to face the truth, knowing that his one and only "perfect" soldier was now practically useless.

"I don't know, sire. He appears to be more calm and relaxed when he's with her. However I'm not in favor of releasing him into the care of a fifteen year old girl. She is right about one thing, though. Kefka is like a child. One that needs to be monitored constantly, much like a parent would keep watch over a destructive toddler that's just learning how to walk and talk."

By now Leo had finished reading the report. He set the folder aside, listening patiently to their conversation for several minutes before speaking. "I have a question," he said, raising a hand to get their attention. "Would it be possible to sentence him to house arrest rather than condemning him to life in a mental institution?"

Gesthal and Cid looked at him. They hadn't considered the possibility of house arrest, and neither one of them were sure it was the best solution to the problem. Kefka had serious issues that weren't going to go away overnight. He could easily destroy the entire north wing of the palace if he was released and decided to go on another killing spree.

"Kefka has served the empire well during his time as General," Leo continued. "I'll admit I'm not fond of the methods he's used, but he has always been loyal to you, your Majesty, and has worked hard to serve his country. Surely this deserves something other than a life sentence in prison, or being confined to a mental institution for the rest of his days."

"The man is ill, Christophe," said Gestahl, speaking as though he were addressing an ignorant child who couldn't understand that one and one makes two. "He's not a General or a soldier anymore. He's a patient receiving medical care until we can get his condition under control."

"Then I think it would be best to consider the health and well being of the patient." Leo turned to Dr. Cid. "I'm not denying that what he did was wrong. All I'm asking is that you think about what is best for him. Think about his living conditions, and ask yourself if he's truly living and thriving where he's at now. How can the situation be improved? How can we make this work so that he and everyone around him is safe? How can we protect him from himself, while at the same time allowing him to live a normal life? If you want him to recover, then you will need to think about these questions. Because he certainly doesn't seem to be improving where he is."

"He's not going to recover." Gestahl banged his fist on the table, trying to relieve some of the tension and stress that was building in his chest. "Dammit, Christophe, why do you always have to be so damn nice? I'm surprised you can survive on the field of battle, what with your charming pleasantries and inviting the enemies to tea."

"You told me to arrange a meeting with them so that they might be persuaded to side with us," Leo calmly stated. "I was following orders, your Highness. That is all."

Gestahl curled his lip in disgust. As much as he hated the thought of Kefka running wild through the palace, he would rather deal with Kefka's obnoxious antics than this goody-two shoes. Leo was a skilled fighter and an excellent swordsman, but he lacked Kefka's energy, enthusiasm and willingness to slaughter their enemies if they so much as looked him funny. It made him reconsider the notion of sentencing him to house arrest, because if Kefka was still let out to go on missions, it would mean having someone at his disposal that could get the job done quicker and more efficiently than Leo could.

"Perhaps I was being too hasty," he said, addressing the General in a more calm, composed manner, one that his followers had learned to fear, because whenever Gestahl started speaking in a voice of deathly calm it always meant that he was up to no good. "Instead of removing him from the military, I could grant him the position of Court Mage and allow him to leave for work related business. But only if he can be kept under control. I don't want him having another episode five minutes after he's released from the hospital. And if he does," he paused, leaning across the table and pointing at Leo, "it'll be on your head for suggesting that he be sentenced to house arrest, Christophe."

Leo nodded. "I understand, sir."

\----------------

While Dr. Cid was meeting with Emperor Gestahl and Leo, Terra made her way upstairs and was now standing in Kefka's bedroom. It felt strange walking into his room and not being greeted by the sound of music and laughter. On an ordinary day she would hear music drifting downstairs, then open the door and find Kefka singing and dancing with the record player turned up to full volume. She would step into his room, smiling as she was swept up in a dizzying display of colors and fabric, with Kefka taking her by the hand and spinning her around. Now the room was silent, with a layer of dust covering the items on the shelves. Had it really been three months since they put him in the hospital? It felt as though years had passed since they last danced until one in the morning.

Terra sighed heavily and looked at the closet. Whatever it was he wanted her to get was in there, buried beneath a mountain of blankets and whatever else he had stashed in there. Knowing him it was probably full of dolls, clothes and plastic bags containing feathers, beads, and wire. To her it was full of memories, reminding her of the time she hid in there during a game of hide and seek. Practically everything in this house reminded her of Kefka, and it pained her to see this place looking so empty without him.

She pulled the chair out from under the desk, standing on it to reach the top shelf. The closet looked much smaller than she remembered. As a child she would easily get lost in there, burying herself in mounds of clothes or hiding behind boxes. She remembered what it was like when she climbed the boxes in an attempt to reach the top shelf.

Kefka always told her to stay out of his closet, and to never try reaching the top shelf. "You could fall and hurt yourself," he told her, his hands around her waist as he lifted her out of the closet.

"Nuh-uh," Terra said, shaking her head as she squirmed and tried wriggling out of his arms. "I can fly!"

Kefka laughed the first time he heard her say that. "If you can fly, then why are you using boxes to reach the top of my closet?"

He set her on the floor, and Terra inserted the tip of her index finger in her mouth, sucking on it as she gazed up into the closet. "'Cause!" she chirped, smiling at him like that was enough of an explanation.

The mage put his hands on his hips. He didn't look amused.

"Uhh..." Terra looked around the room. "'Cause I can't fly very high."

"You can't fly at all, little one."

"Can to!" She clenched her fists, focusing all her energy into the soles of her feet.

Kefka blinked and looked at her in surprise as her feet left the floor. Terra giggled, feeling quite pleased with herself as she floated three inches off the floor. She then landed with a soft thump in the middle of the room.

She remembered it like it was yesterday, and felt tears come to her eyes as she realized that she might never see that side of him ever again. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, then climbed onto the chair and started digging through the pile of blankets on the left hand corner of the shelf.

She discovered a sheet of paper peeking out from between the layers of blankets. It didn't budge when she pulled on it, so she lifted the top layer of blankets, and saw not one but several sheets of paper protruding from a small wooden box. She had to be careful not to disrupt the delicate structure of blankets piled on top of one another, or else she would soon find herself buried alive under an avalanche of fabric.

After a minute or two of careful shifting and maneuvering, she managed to extract the wooden box, then sat down on the bed to examine its contents. What she found was a bunch of hastily written notes and blueprints, as well as a half-constructed crown with wires dangling the from an opening in the side. There was an indentation in the middle, with circuit boards and bits of red and blue wires visible beneath a panel in the center of the crown.

She turned it over in her hands, trying to figure out what it was, but the notes told her nothing about the device Kefka was in the process of making. "What is this? Some sort of tiara? Or maybe it's a relic." A smile creased the corners of her lips, her fingers tracing the row of diamonds that laced the sides of the crown. "It's beautiful," she whispered. "And I bet it'll be even more beautiful once he's finished with it."

She placed the papers in the box and made her way downstairs, one hand on the railing, the other holding the box against her chest. To her it was a gift, something precious that proved the old Kefka still existed. It gave her hope when she needed it most. She didn't realize that what she was holding was the key to her enslavement, the final piece of a puzzle that had been slowly taking shape for the last few years.

Kefka wouldn't be satisfied until she was his. His doll, his puppet, his perfect little toy. He would have her, his naive, innocent little pet, always so pure, so perfect, believing in all that was good in the world. He would break her, proving once and for all that he was a monster, one who didn't care about the hopes and dreams of others.

She could hope for his return, dreaming of the life they shared, but it wouldn't do her any good. Not when he pulled the strings, showing her a reality in which dreams did not exist, and all the world around them burned as she joined him in the endless fires of destruction.


	30. Wings For Kefka

He bowed his head, his steps slowed and his eyes half closed, with loose strands of hair dangling in his face. He was barely aware of himself or his surroundings, the voices whispering, muttering, speaking even though he was sure that no one was actually talking. They didn't need to speak, for he knew what they were thinking. He knew what they thought about him, and slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his head, glaring at the soldier next to him, a sneer forming on his lips as he felt heat pooling in the palm of his right hand.

His fingers curled into a fist, the warmth radiating outwards, growing stronger, hot enough to burn anyone that touched him. He was just about to cast one of his fire spells when suddenly her voice pierced the haze that clouded his mind.

"Kefka, no."

Her hand closed around his arm. She looked up at him, begging him not to do it.

"Please."

Kefka absorbed the burning embers into his skin, his gaze drifting towards the floor as they continued their long walk down the hall, followed closely by half a dozen palace guards. He wasn't fully aware of himself or his actions. All he knew was hate, hate, more hate and destruction. But it didn't matter, because the one thing that he was actually aware of was right there next to him, her arm around him as they made the journey home together. Those eyes spoke volumes to him. Her voice, her touch, it was all he needed to guide him home.

"We'll be there soon, Kefka."

"I know," he hissed, his lips barely moving as he spoke. He turned his head, gazing at her with eyes that lacked the warmth and kindness he once possessed so many years ago. Anyone else would have turned away, unable to hold his gaze and look into those cold, piercing eyes. But not Terra. She refused to turn away from him, pulling him close as they began the final leg of their journey.

There were guards stationed around the entrance of his home, watching him night and day. Kefka wasn't allowed to leave except for work related business. He was lucky he even had a job, and needless to say he wasn't pleased with losing his job to Leo. It took three nurses and another dose of sedatives to prevent him from burning down the palace when they told him Gestahl had given his title to Leo.

"It's going to be okay," said Terra. She closed her eyes, leaning against him and resting her head on his shoulder. It felt like the end of a very long day, and they were both very tired. She wanted nothing more than to be alone with him in the privacy of their own home. No doctors, no sterile walls and locked doors, no set time in which she had to leave. Just the two of them with no interruptions.

Of course there would always be interruptions. Things had changed since he'd spent four months in a mental institution. Dr. Cid had given him medication, which he was supposed to take in order to keep his temper under control, and had ordered a nurse to check on him once a week to make sure everything was alright. Not that anyone expected Kefka to take his medication like he was supposed to. They were in hopes Terra could coax him into taking it. Kefka always listened to her even when he didn't listen to anyone else. And if that didn't work, well, let's just say that a certain clown was more than willing to deal with the consequences. And this time he would make sure they never put him in a place like that again.

The door closed behind them. He was finally home.

Kefka stood in the living room, taking in the familiar sights that surrounded him. It was just as he'd left it, with everything neatly organized and in its place. His eyes narrowed, and he looked down at Terra. She was smiling at him, but it was a nervous smile. She knew that things were different, and that he was no longer the kind and compassionate man he used to be. It didn't stop her from clinging to him, her arm around him as she gazed into his eyes, trying to read his expression and understand what he was feeling.

"Is it safe?" he asked.

"Huh?" It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about. "Oh! Yes, of course it is."

"Bring it here then."

Terra hesitated, unwilling to leave his side. She didn't want to leave him alone, not even for a minute. It wasn't safe to leave him alone. And after everything they'd experienced during the last few months, all she wanted was to sit down, relax, make some hot cocoa and then fall asleep next to him on the couch like she used to. But it seemed as though Kefka had other plans.

"Terra."

She could hear the warning in his voice. He wasn't asking her to do this for him, he was telling her, and he wanted her to follow his orders at once. Terra put her head down, moving away from him and walking down the hall, only to return a minute later with a box containing the half-constructed crown.

His fingers lovingly caressed the wooden box, a fiendish grin forming on his lips. "Splendid," he crooned. He looked at her, his hand cupping her chin and tilting her head back so that she was gazing into his eyes. "You've done well, Terra. Yes, always the obedient little doll. And I'm going to make sure it stays that way."

Terra saw very little of him once he started working on the crown. He stayed to himself in his room, working late into the wee hours of the morning. He didn't sleep, and unless Terra brought him his meals in his room, he didn't eat. She would climb the stairs to his room and set a plate of cookies on the desk, then sit on his bed and watch him work. Every now and then he would pick at the plate of cookies, nibbling on one of them while he paused in his work, thinking about what he was going to do next. He was unusually quiet, which was never a good sign because it meant Kefka was up to no good.

Sometimes he would cry out, doubling over and clutching his head as though he were in pain. When Terra tried to get close to him, he would scream and send her flying across the room, his magic rushing outwards in all directions and knocking her off her feet. He was so powerful she couldn't even approach him, and it made her wonder how they managed to control him when he was in the hospital.

She tried getting him to take his medicine, but he refused, saying that it clouded his thoughts and made him too tired to work. Terra thought about sneaking it in his food like they'd done in the hospital, but all she ever heard him say, over and over again, was that she was a good little doll. He praised her for being loyal and obedient, and punished her when she didn't follow his orders. He thought nothing of hitting her, slapping her across the face and yelling at her whenever she acted in a way he didn't approve of. His claws shredded the delicate flesh on her arms, drawing blood and leaving behind deep gashes on her face, and still she stayed with him, knowing that he would heal her once he calmed down.

His behavior became increasingly violent, his paranoia growing with each night he stayed awake. He told her this was for her own good, that he was trying to protect her, and that they couldn't trust anyone outside their home. She could have drugged him, using the medication they gave him to knock him out and escape. But even after everything he'd done to her, Terra still loved this man and refused to betray his trust. And even if she left his rage would follow her to the ends of the earth, killing anyone who stood in his way as fought to capture her.

One morning she woke up and found that Kefka was missing, the finished crown sitting on the desk amid tangled bundles of wire, sheets of paper and bits of metal. She sat up slowly, moving towards the foot of the bed while gazing at his creation. The crown was just as beautiful as she imagined it would be, with rows of diamonds set in rose gold. A ruby had been placed in the center of the crown, fitted into the indentation that covered the control mechanism.

She got out of bed and approached the desk, her gaze fixed on the ornate crown. She reached towards it, and was just about to pick it up when she caught sight of something from the corner of her eye. There was someone on the balcony, a dark form silhouetted against the rising sun.

She stepped out onto the balcony, and gasped when she saw him sitting there. He was wearing a strip of brown and gold fabric around his waist, the material covering his nether regions as it flowed past his thighs. Four small wings protruded from his back, the white feathers shining in the pale sunlight. The blemishes that had formed on his wrists and ankles had spread to cover much of body. His hands were now a dark shade of royal purple, with purple lines traveling up his arms towards his shoulders. The tops of his feet were purple, the rich violet hues wrapping around his ankles, flowing up his legs, painting his chest and abdomen with splashes of color.

Patches of pale skin mingled with patches of color, blurring the lines between man and god. He had passed beyond the realm of mortal men, reaching a level higher than those who came before him, and yet he was stuck somewhere in between, unable to go any further without a better source of power to push him over the edge.

Kefka looked over his shoulder, shifting slightly so his wings wouldn't obscure his vision. "Terra," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at me, Terra. Do you see what I've become? I'm lucky I got out of there when I did. Something started to change during the banquet. I could feel it, pain like I've never felt before. It continued while I was in the hospital and now this... This is what I have become."

Terra stared at him, her lips parted as her mouth opened in stunned silence. He was naked except for the cloth around his waist, his hair tied back in its usual ponytail, with strings of beads and feathers tucked into the hairband. Sunlight glinted off the silver pendant in his hair, reflecting the early morning light as he stood and began to move towards her.

Her breath caught in her chest, her body trembling and her eyes wide. His aura was shining with a thousand points of dazzling light, like a diamond sparkling in the sun. The strength went out of her legs, her knees touching the floor as she collapsed. She stared at him in awe, and gasped, shivering when she felt him lay his hand upon her.

His claws sunk into her shoulder, a fiendish grin spreading across his face. With a flick of his wrist he summoned the slave crown from the desk, catching it as it soared towards him. "You ought to consider yourself lucky," he murmured. "It's not everyday that someone is chosen by god for a higher purpose."

Light was shining from his hands, his wicked laughter filled the air, echoing in her mind as he placed the crown on her head. It was the last thing she heard before her consciousness vanished, and she screamed, spiraling down into the darkness that consumed her.

\-------------

There was nothing but the sound of his voice. His whispers formed a ripple on the surface of her mind, like shadows moving across water, a silent scream traveling from her arms to her hands, white hot and searing through the flesh on her fingertips. Without him she was blind. She sensed rather than saw the world around her, feeling everything secondhand through the one that controlled her. There was no light, no colors or images to guide her. There was only Kefka, and the sound of his laughter ringing in her ears.

"Burn them," he whispered, and she followed his command.

She didn't see her target, nor did she hear their screams. There was only one voice, drowning out the others as it ordered her through the flames, through blood and broken bodies. She crouched down, sword in hand, waiting to strike as the enemy drew near. Her clothing was torn, reduced to ragged strips of blood soaked fabric, and still he called for more, making her leap and run, pushing her past the point of exhaustion, draining every last ounce of magic as he forced her to burn everything in sight.

She had seen his true appearance, the wings he kept hidden beneath layers of fabric, the discoloration of his skin that he hid with makeup. He couldn't change into something other than his jester's robes, or remove the makeup and reveal what he'd become. But in her presence, when they were alone together, Kefka would remove his robes and replace them with the burgundy cloth he wore around his waist.

He would pull her close, locking the doors and ordering her to sit on his lap while he stroked her hair, brushing and styling it like she was one of his dolls. He would spend hours talking to her, grinning and laughing as she nodded in response to his questions. Her eyes were always blank, half-closed, a vacant stare, mindlessly following his orders and agreeing with everything he said.

She lost herself in him, falling into his arms as he stroked her back, her chin resting against his shoulder like she was some sort of rag doll. Her arms hung limp at her sides, saliva trickled from the corner of her mouth, her eyes staring ahead at the wall. When he released her and leaned her back against the couch, her head lolled to the side before falling forward, her chin resting on her chest.

"Look at me, my pretty doll," he murmured, grasping her chin and forcing her head up. She saw only him, only when he wanted her to. She wasn't even aware of her own body, her arms and legs tied to him with invisible strings. He could make her move and dance, her actions mirroring his as they fought side by side on the battlefield.

In time they began to fear her almost as much as they did Kefka, for they knew that she was nothing more than an outward extension of his own inner madness. She could hear him laughing, screeching, cackling, the world around them hot and pulsing, on fire with the magic that flowed from his fingertips. He strolled down the corridor, and felt the flickering fluorescents celebrate his passing, humming his praise. Kefka Palazzo, master of puppets, angel, demon and god. He spun in a circle, dancing and humming along with the vibrations in the air, leaving bloody footprints on the floor, his bloody fingers smearing the walls. And there she was, his perfect little toy, following along beside him.

"Come," he said, snapping his fingers and ordering her to quicken her pace.

Heads turned, soldiers ran to get out of the way, and a familiar face amongst the crowd looked on in horror, watching her friend following the crazed magician.

"Terra," Celes murmured. She stood rooted to the spot, watching the blood dripping down the walls, knowing full well that there was nothing she could do to rescue Terra from the clutches of this madman. It was then that she began to despise the empire. Gesthal saw what Kefka did to Terra, and instead of punishing him or sending him back to the hospital, he praised Kefka's work, saying thay she would make an excellent weapon in combat.

Celes hated Kefka for what he'd done, and she resented the Emperor for allowing him to do it. Even with the new rules in place that sentenced him to house arrest, Kefka still found ways around them, strutting his stuff in rainbow colored glory as he made his way towards the throne room.

The mage stopped when he saw Celes standing in the hallway. "Celes," he sneered, wrinkling his nose in digust as though she were something foul stuck to the bottom of his boot.

"That's General Celes to you, Kefka," she corrected him.

"Right right. So sorry. It must have slipped my mind along with the dozen or so other things I've forgotten since breakfast." He said all of this rather quickly, his hands fluttering in her face as he punctuated his speech with rapid gestures, looking very much like he was attempting to use sign language. "How long has it been since they promoted you? A year? Six months? Last week?"

Celes took a step back, moving to avoid the flecks of blood that flew from his hands with each flick of his wrist. She couldn't tell whether or not he was acting like this on purpose to annoy her or if he had genuinely forgotten. She knew how forgetful he was, but one could never tell with Kefka.

The mage giggled when he saw the look of disgust on her face, then pranced off down the hall with Terra following close behind. He was still being sent on missions, usually with Leo and a squadron of his troops to keep him under control. Celes refused to work with him, and it wasn't just because she was repulsed by his horrible behavior. It was because she couldn't stand seeing Terra following him like a dog on a leash.


	31. Awakening

Pale beams of light cut through the darkness, illuminating the flakes of snow that slowly spiraled towards the earth. There was nothing above them, no sliver of moon nor star to guide them, and the ground below was solid white. It was a stark contrast against the amber rays of light the pierced the shadows, meeting at the center upon a horizon made of stone.

The stone walls rose before them, looming like the gaping jaws of some primitive beast. The noise of shifting gears and metal plates reverberated off the walls, echoing in darkness. Biggs looked back at his companions, motioning for them to move forward.

They entered the mines, searching for the frozen Esper that was believed to have been hidden in the lower caverns. They didn't know what shape it was in, or if it could be used to fuel the empire's machines and armor. They didn't even know if the rumors were true, but Kefka believed it enough to let them to borrow his precious pet.

Terra hadn't left his side for three years, not since Kefka put the slave crown on her. They knew what he'd done to her, and yet they didn't object to his use of the slave crown. Some of the soldiers thought it was funny, watching her shuffle along like a mindless zombie. They waited for her to pass, then tripped her and laughed when she fell forward onto her face. This sent Kefka into a rage, forcing the soldiers to flee for their lives when he started screaming and hurling fireballs at them. One of the soldiers didn't make it in time, and was struck down with a bolt of lightning before he could escape. Kefka then knelt beside her on the floor, helping her up and examining the scrape on her cheek.

He swore under his breath, wiping the blood off her face with the hem of his cloak before casting Cure on her.

"There now. All better."

She was unaware of the fact that she had fallen, or that he had helped her up and healed her. There was a vague feeling of warmth as he held her hand and ran his thumb over the scrape on her cheek, but it was distant, lingering on the edge of her subconscious. She always heard him when he spoke, even when he was speaking to himself or arguing with the voices in his head, but physical sensations were dulled to the point of nonexistence. He could make her feel if he wanted to, though he preferred to keep her in the dark about what was happening so she could focus on him.

And now here she was, miles away from the lights and machines she'd grown accustomed to. They were still connected, locked together like two pieces of a puzzle. He could speak to her across the vast distances that separated them, allowing her to see through his eyes as he stood in front of the mirror. He was always there, invading the silence of her mind with laughter, illuminating the darkness with a prism of colors and light. She shared his thoughts and emotions as though they were one. The only time there was silence was when Kefka slept. But the silence was brief, due to the horrific nightmares that haunted him on a daily basis.

She pushed the lever forward, maneuvering around the rocks and builders that covered the path. "There it is!" a voice called out, and their spotlights fell upon the frozen Esper, its massive form perched upon an earthen mound in the back of the cave.

Her lips parted as she stared at the magnificent creature. The Esper's brightly colored plumage was encased in a layer of ice, with every chip and indentation shimmering like a thousand opals. Its beak was open wide, its clawed hands raised towards the heavens with wings spread wide, forever locked in flight as it sat upon its froze throne. It appeared to be glowing, its body shining with a pale, bioluminescent light.

"Is that thing still alive?" asked Biggs, sounding somewhat frightened as he moved towards the frozen Esper.

"Can't be," said Wedge. "It's been frozen for a thousand years. There's no way that thing is alive and breathing."

And yet Terra could hear its heart beat, the slow, steady rhythm pulsing in time with the waves of light that surrounded the Esper's body. She could feel it calling her, beckoning her to come forward. It was an invitation from her past, an unknown creature, yet its eyes seemed so familiar, reflecting images from a world she'd forgotten long ago. And then, step by step, she began to move towards it, completely unaware of her movements as she climbed the hill and stood before the shining Esper.

The light was growing stronger, the world fell away, and all she could see was blackness surrounding a single point of light. Shimmering strands of light flowed from the Esper's gaping jaws, sending chills down her spine as she reached towards the ancient beast. It was the first physical sensation she'd felt in years, her skin tingling as she made contact with the frozen Esper.

_'Is this what it feels like to be alive?'_

She stepped into the light, her senses flooded with a dozen different sensations at once.

_'I want to feel alive again...'_

She closed her eyes, her head titled back as her feet left the floor.

_'Please... Help me...'_

A thunderous roar shook the cave, the light within the Esper's eyes exploded, striking the jewel at the center of the crown and sending up a shower of sparks. The metal frame cracked, revealing rows of wires and circuitry that burst from the seams of the ruined crown. The pieces began to disintegrate, falling away as her consciousnesses returned. There was a moment, a solitary shard of time in which she was able to move and think on her own. But when she opened her eyes, she came face to face with a monster.

Terra screamed, thinking that the beast before her was going to devour her whole. She heard him laugh, his hideous form merging with that of the frozen Esper, then all at once the lights went out and she was left floating in darkness.

\--------------

Kefka was tossing and turning in his sleep, his dreams haunted by the same horrible images he'd seen time and time again. He gripped the mattress, screaming as he ran towards her in his mind, and slowly she turned, her body surrounded by a pulsing aura of electric blue light.

The Queen of the ancient castle looked down at him from atop a snow covered mountain, her arms held out at her sides, her head held high as the wind tugged at the corners of her dress. She closed her eyes, and suddenly she was falling far away from the one person who cared about her more than anyone else in the world.

The mage awoke with a start, falling from his bed and landing on the hardwood floor. He'd been attached to her for so long that he could feel when their connection broke, the energy from the frozen Esper sending shockwaves through her body and into his, jolting him awake at half past one in the morning. And then suddenly he was falling with her, into blackness, into nothing at all. The voices came rushing in, rising like waves and striking against the shoreline. Kefka curled in on himself, his hands over his ears, trying in vain to block out the overwhelming noise. He didn't even realize that he was screaming.

Terra was the last fragile cord trying him to his sanity, and when the waves rushed in he began to drown in the cacophony of screeching voices. He needed her to stop the noise, to stop the voices from tormenting him. The connection he'd forged with her through the slave crown helped keep them at bay. But without her it all came rushing back with a vengeance.

He never should have let her go. He thought she was safe, he thought the slave crown would ensure that she would always return to him. It was supposed to be indestructible. He'd built it from the strongest materials he could find, then reinforced it with a ring of diamonds, making it strong enough to survive the battles she fought. The only way it could be destroyed was if she'd been attacked by something that possessed a power greater than his own.

"Espers," he growled, his claws sinking into tangled mass of sheets and blankets. He was shaking, his wings quivering with rage. She must have gotten too close, close enough that it responded to her magic. He'd seen it in his mind, its feathers shining with the colors of the rainbow, right before she closed her eyes and plummeted off the edge of the cliff. But how could this be? Terra had been around Espers in the laboratory, and yet they didn't react with such force and aggression. Perhaps it was because they'd been weakened by the process that drained their magic. They didn't have the strength to move, let alone fight back if an unfamiliar face entered their territory.

He tore at the sheets with his claws, shredding the fabric and escaping from it like a cocoon. He spread his wings, looking like some sort of hideous butterfly as he clawed his way across the floor. "They're alive," he hissed. "And I will have every last one of them!"

Kefka sat in the middle of the floor, his body no more than a silhouette against the moonlight. He bowed his head, his shoulders shaking as laughter built inside his chest. He would find her and claim her as his own, forcing her down on her knees as she bowed before him.

He was the key, the voice of salvation calling out amongst the shadows, summoning her, forcing her to do his bidding. Together they would resurrect the frozen Esper, and he would devour its magic, using it to fuel his godlike strength. He'd taken all he could from the Espers in the laboratory. But this new creature, this feathered being with colors that mirrored his own lush plumage, he'd yet to taste its essence and see what spells he could learn from it. He wanted more, enough that he could bathe in their essence, consuming it at his leisure while the soldiers marched into the hills, into the mountains and valleys of the Esper world, bringing in fresh meat to add his collection of otherworldly delicacies.

They were out there, existing just beyond his reach in a world he could only imagine. The empire had built an observation post in the mountains to the east of Vector, with guards patrolling the area night and day. If Terra's magic was enough to awaken the frozen Esper, what would happen if he placed her at the gates to her home world?

Kefka shook his head, trying to rid himself of the excess noise that was polluting his thoughts. The torn bedsheets slipped off onto the floor as he stood up, the moonlight bathing his nearly naked body in a pale, silver light. Kefka never wore anything from the waist up when he was at home, because the material restricted the movement of his wings.

Funny things, those miniscule little feather dusters. They were useless in terms of flight, and hadn't grown an inch since they first sprouted three years ago. They were always getting squished, always driving him insane as he shifted in his seat, tugging at his clothes and trying to adjust the layers of fabric. He hoped that one day they might actually amount to something, but for now they were nothing but a nuisance.

He snatched the red and gold robe that had been draped over the bedpost, and slipped his arms inside it while moving quickly down the stairs. There were guards stationed outside his home, which meant that he didn't have to go far to find someone who could send a message to the Emperor.

Kefka flung the door open, and seized the nearest guard by the front of his shirt. The unfortunate guard barely had time to scream before Kefka slammed him up against the wall, his claws digging into the man's chest, threatening to pierce his flesh and rip the meat clean off the bone. The guards converged on him, and were struck down by a bolt of lightning, surging from his fingetips and exploding in a shower of green and gold sparks. Sometimes he wondered why Gestahl had bothered putting guards outside his house. They were no threat to him. He could easily burn through the whole lot of them like a field of dry wheat.

"Stop squirming, you pathetic worm," Kefka spat in contempt. He sunk his claws into the guard's chest, and was rewarded with a scream as a scarlet stain blossomed on the man's shirt. "I need you to send a message to Gestahl. Tell him that my pet has escaped. Our connection has broken, and I have no idea where she is."

The guards tried to approach him, but he was surrounded by a blazing aura that burned anything it came in contact with. His eyes were glowing like hot coals, with thin whisps of smoke rising from between his fingers.

"You will find her," Kefka hissed. "Find her, and bring her to me. Or I swear I will kill every last man, woman and child in Vector, starting with you and your pitiful little friends." He snickered, and within seconds an uncontrollable wave of laughter burst from his chest. He shook the guard like a rag doll and shouted, "I'm going to kill every last one of you! Every last pathetic soul! I'll kill people who shouldn't even be dead. I'll bring them back to life and kill them! I hate you!"

Before they knew it he was laughing like a maniac, his hands around the guard's throat as he attempted to strangle him. The guards rushed in, ignoring the heat rising from his skin as they fought to pull him off the unfortunate soldier. One guard made the mistake of seizing his wrist, and was instantly burned when his hand made contact with Kefka's skin. Two guards seized him about his waist, while a third clamped onto his shoulders. They pulled him down on top of them, with Kefka releasing the guard as he fell backwards onto the men that had collasped on his doorstep.

Kefka rolled over onto his belly, his hands scorching everything they touched. He pressed his palms against the earth, igniting a clump of dry weeds that rose from the cracks in the cobblestone. If they weren't careful he would set the whole city on fire. But how could they calm him down when Terra was miles away in another country? Without her his rage would continue to grow until flames engulfed the city, then on into Tzen and Albrook, and across the countryside into Maranda.

Two of the guards ran, carrying their injured comrade to the hospital, while the other, less fortunate men stayed behind and tried calming him down. It was then that they noticed the tuft of feathers protruding from the neck of his robes. His left shoulder was exposed, along with a portion of his upper left wing.

The guards backed away, staring at him like he was some sort of hideous monster. They didn't know what to make of this bizarre appendage, and as they watched, his body began to twist and writhe, his back arching as his claws scraped against the earth. He appeared to be in pain, and a sickly, feral growl slipped past his lips, building into a tremendous howl as pain ignited at the base of skull.

"Terra," he snarled, his voice merging with those of the Espers that possessed his mind and body. He was positively glowing, his lean form encased in a layer of shimmering flames. The robe fell away, turning to ash as the heat from his body incinerated the plush fabric. "She is one of us. She belongs with us, here, in the arms of her god." He crawled towards them, his claws clicking against the cobblestone. "Heaven shall burn, earth and sky awash in blood, no man finding peace until I can hold her in my arms. I must... I must have her. Hold her, until it sleeps. For if I cannot find peace then no one will. And I will kill... Kill, kill, kill, kill until there is nothing left! Nothing else left but us!"

He threw his head back, cackling as the guards panicked and fled the scene. Kefka looked up at the sky, and felt the power of the Espers surging through his veins. He couldn't pinpoint exactly where she was, but he sensed her presence. A million miles away and he could still feel her heart beating within the shadows that consumed her, blanketing her in a layer of confusion and despair. It was time she experienced the nightmare that had haunted him for over a decade. And while she wandered the vast expanse of her mind, trying to find herself and remember who she was, he would wait for her, hoping that one day she would return.

But when that moment finally came, when she embraced the stars and reached through the void to discover who she was, she would not answer his call. She would rise to the will of another, one whose soul had not been tainted by the impurities of science. There were others like her in this world, others who desired peace, who wanted nothing more than to put an end to this madness. She was racing away from him faster than he realized. She was free now, and she was never coming back.


	32. Stitches

The guards fled for their lives, leaving Kefka on the doorstep, laughing and shaking like he was on the verge of having another seizure. His claws scraped against the earth, and he rolled over onto his back, screaming Terra's name at the top of his voice. And somewhere, deep within her subconscious mind, she heard him, his voice echoing in the darkness that surrounded her. Terra gasped, her eyes opening wide, and suddenly he was there, standing in front of her as images from the past played out before her eyes.

She saw flowers in shades of violet and white, pale hands with painted nails stitching together a ragged moogle. He turned, his earrings glinting in the sunlight, but she couldn't see his face.

_"It's almost finished, Terra. I have a surprise for you."_

But it wasn't the plush moogle. It was something that shone like diamonds in the sunlight. Her knees hit the floor, the ground caved in between them, and she was falling into his arms as wicked laughter filled the air.

She awoke with a start, looking around the room in confusion. A man was there, his sandy hair kept in check by a ragged bandana. He approached the bed, his hands raised in front of him to show that he wasn't armed. Or at least that's what it looked it. Who knows what kind of weapons he could have hidden in his boot or back pocket.

"Easy there," he said slowly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Who are you?" Terra paused, looking up at the brick wall and paneled ceiling. "Where am I? None of this looks familiar."

"My name is Locke." He put his hand on his chest, a faint smile creasing the corners of his lips. "This is the northern mining town of Narshe. You're safe here. No one is going to hurt you." He cocked his head to the side, studying her for a minute. "I don't know your name."

"Terra. My name is Terra Branford."

"Ha! And they said you wouldn't recover quickly." His smile widened. He seemed friendly enough, but Terra wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything right now. It was as if her life began in this room, and everything that happened before was a blur. But she knew him, this man with the sharp claws and hideous laugher. She knew in her heart that she had seen his face before. She just couldn't remember where or how they met.

Locke cringed when he heard voices outside the door, followed by pounding as someone demanded that they hand over the Magitek armor pilot. "Damn. So much for peaceful negotiations." He looked at Terra. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"I... I don't think so. Why?"

"Because we might have to run for it."

The voices were getting louder, the door rattling as the guard struck the wooden frame with his fist. Locke put his hand on the bedpost, his other hand reaching for his waistband as he withdrew a dagger from the worn fabric. He kept his gaze focused on the bedroom door, listening carefully as the voices retreated for a moment. When he looked back at Terra he saw that she was cowering in the corner, trembling with fright as she tried to make sense of what was happening around her.

Nothing made sense anymore. Where was she? Why was she here? Her head was pounding, aching with such intense pain that she thought she might be sick. A hand touched her shoulder, and she screamed, falling forward as Locke pulled her off the bed.

"Come on! We have to get out of here!"

She managed to run halfway across the room before stumbling, falling into darkness as the laughter returned.

Kefka. His name was Kefka.

"Terra?"

Her vision cleared, and she found herself on her knees.

"Are you alright? I think you blacked out for a moment."

Terra moaned, leaning forward with her head in her hands. "I don't... I can't remember," she sobbed, tears falling from her eyes as she doubled over on the floor. She wanted to run but the strength had gone out of her limbs. It was as if she'd been held captive for a very long time, a prisoner in her own body, with someone else controlling her movements, ordering her forward, calling her back, making her move like a puppet on strings.

It felt strange controlling her own actions and forcing herself to move. Her limbs were heavy, her movements slowed like she was walking through water. She was drowning in a sea of sensations she hadn't felt in years, overwhelmed by the fact that she could feel her lungs shrinking and expanding with each breath she took. Terra couldn't remember what it felt like to control her own body, to live free without the will of another choosing when and where she was to act. It was all so new to her, and for a momemt her body refused to act on its own, waiting perhaps for the voice that never came.

Locke knelt down beside her, his arm around her as she hiccupped and sobbed. "It's alright," he said, his tone gentle and kind. "I'll protect you. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

She looked up at him, feeling unsure of how to follow when her mind felt so far away. There was something about this man and his warm, friendly eyes that reminded her of him. It made her wonder if they had been here before. Had they seen the steam rising from the machines that dotted the landscape? Or watched the sun rise above the snow covered mountain tops? But his eyes weren't always warm and friendly. Sometimes they were harsh, like the frigid cold that covered the valley in a layer of pure, white snow.

"Come on." Locke lifted her off the floor, draping her arm around his shoulder as he helped her stand. "We'll escape through the mines, then make our way south to Figaro. I'll explain everything once we've reached the castle."

He moved towards the closet, his gloved hand reaching between the clothes and pushing them aside. He pressed the palm of his hand against the wall, sliding a panel out of the way and revealing a hidden staircase that lead down into a tunnel.

"Move with a purpose, Terra," said Locke, the girl hobbling along beside him as they began their descent into the tunnel. "We gotta really motor if we want to make it out of here before those guards catch up with us."

"But I don't understand. Why are they after us?" Terra turned the corner and found herself staring into dimly lit passageway. Crates and mining tools were piled in the corner, with lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Tracks for mine carts crisscrossed their path, leading down into the tunnels that branched off in either direction. "Wait, I think I hear something."

It was a voice, that familiar cackle emanating from one of the lanterns overhead. It permeated the air around her, and as she gazed into the flickering firelight, she saw shapes materializing within the amber flames. She watched them move, a silhouette with feathers in its hair, a flowing cloak that mirrored the movements of the dancing fire. Its motions left her spellbound, watching as it leapt and danced, spinning in endles circles with arms held out at its sides.

The laughter was all around her, his voice magnified by the stone walls. He was everywhere, he was speaking just for her, a thousand voices calling, singing one familiar song. It was the voice of madness, the voice of destruction, the voice of always. She was his, the flames rising up like the wings of the phoenix, smothering her, hiding her, consuming her body and soul.

"Terra?"

She gasped as she became aware of her surroundings, and saw Locke's face illuminated in the glow from the lanterns.

"Are you alright? You look a little pale."

"I don't know." She let her gaze travel downwards until she was staring at the ground beneath her feet. She was silent, her mind working through everything she'd seen since regaining consciousness. But no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't make sense of what was happening around her.

Locke shifted slightly, adjusting his hold on her before continuing on his way. "It'll be alright," he said softly. "You won't remember everything all at once, but I'm sure it'll come back to you eventually."

Terra glanced at the overhead lights before delving deeper into the mines. "Maybe I don't want to remember," she whispered, her voice small and frightened in the shadowy depths of the mine. "Maybe some thing are better off forgotten."

\------------------

It had now been three days since Terra was freed from his control. The crazed magician was sitting in the meeting room, his arms around his waist as he rocked back and forth in his seat. He was shaking and twitching like he'd had too much caffine, which would certainly account for his inability to sleep. Every now and then he would look down at the floor, giggling and muttering to himself as he continued rocking back and forth.

The others were seated as far away as possible, keeping their distance for fear of getting caught in one of Kefka's spontaneous fits of rage. They'd already lost one of their fellow soldiers when they brought him to the palace three days ago, and they didn't want to lose anyone else.

The soldiers who'd been there had to go on paid leave after witnessing the mage howling and writhing like he'd been possessed by some sort of demon. His clothing had been turned to ash, his wings trailing like a broken banner as they scooped him up and wrapped him in a blanket, ushering him into the palace while he cackled like a rabid hyena. No one wanted to retrieve him, but when Emperor Gestahl received word that Terra had escaped, he ordered them to bring Kefka in for questioning.

The mage was laughing uncontrollably when they brought him before the Emperor, the blanket slipping off his shoulders to reveal two pairs of feathered wings.

Gestahl leaned forward in his seat, his eyes wide as he watched the mad wizard laughing and squirming as they fought to keep the blanket from falling to the floor. "Good lord, what happened to this man?" He raised a trembling hand, pointing at the feathered appendages that sprouted from Kefka's back. "Are those wings? Why in god's name does this man have wings?!"

Kefka started bouncing like a kangaroo, the soldiers grabbing the blanket with both hands, tripping and stumbling as he skipped in circles. "The Espers are coming!" he shouted. "The Espers, the Espers, the Espers! Terra will bring them all, opening the dimensional rift and releasing them into our world!"

"Palazzo!" Gestahl exclaimed. "Stop this at once!"

The mage came to an abrupt halt, crouching on the floor like an animal, then looked around as though just realizing where he was.

The Emperor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Get up. Now!" he added when the mage refused to move.

"She is free fom my control," Kefka whispered. His wings twitched, and he jerked forward, dragging the soldiers across the floor. "She's gone now. I can't find her. I can't... Cannot... She is lost, lost amid the mountains and the snow and the endless howling winds."

"How do you know that?"

Kefka raised a hand, cowering on the floor as he pointed to his head. "The slave crown." He swallowed hard, then lowered his hand to the floor. "It's... It's stopped working. Can't... No. She's out there, alone, without me. It's broken. It's broken!" he screeched, rolling over and over on the floor until he'd cocooned himself in the blanket. His words dissolved into horrendous, ear piercing screams that echoed off the walls, threatening to shatter the glass in the windows.

"Palazzo!" Gestahl plugged his ears with his fingers. "Stop! I order you to stop this at once!"

But it was no use. He was still wailing as they carried him upstairs to Cid's laboratory.

They didn't know what was happening to him. Dr. Cid wanted to run tests on him in order to determine the origin of these feathery appendages, but Kefka had thrown another one of his legendary tantrums, escaping the confines of the lab and fleeing down the hall. They found him on the balcony overlooking the city, where they just managed to catch him in time before he tried throwing himself over the railing. He was trying to fly to Narshe, but was unable to do so due to the fact that his wings were too small. Kefka could fly without using his wings, though he mostly used this technique during battle, and had yet to master the ability to cover large distances using only magic.

When the doctor caught up with him and saw him struggling against the soldiers who were trying to restrain him, he entered the fray and helped pin Kefka to the ground, injecting him with a sedative to get him under control. The last thing they needed was a naked wizard running wild through the city.

They brought him back to the laboratory and laid him on the exam table, positioning him on his stomach with a towel draped across his waist.

The doctor sighed, shaking his head as he stared at Kefka's pale form in disbelief. He reached for the upper left wing on Kefka's back, lifting and stretching it as he examined the soft, white feathers. He'd heard Terra arguing with Celes about Kefka turning into an Esper, but he never imagined that Kefka was actually in the procsss of transforming into some sort of godlike being.

The upper wings were larger and more developed than the ones below. They grew in layers, the upper wings resting atop the lower ones. If he wanted, Kefka could fold his wings against his back, flattening the feathery appendages so that they were barely noticeable beneath his layers of clothing. He had little control over the second set of wings, which were primitive compared to the others. They were small, approximately seven inches long, while the others were over a foot in length.

When he finished measuring and examining his wings, Dr. Cid moved on to the purplish discoloration of his skin. Kefka always removed his makeup before going to bed, so to see him with dark blotches that resembled purple body paint on his arms, legs, back, chest and abdomen was unusual. The doctor ran his fingers over the back of Kefka's hand, and was surprised when the color didn't come off on his hands. He even tried removing it with a damp washcloth, but this wasn't makeup. It was the natural color of Kefka's skin.

"Let's get him prepped so I can perform a biopsy on his skin and wings. I want to know what's causing this."

The mage began to stir. "Terra," he moaned, fluttering his wings and lifting his head an inch or two off the table. "Terra, come back... Come back. I need you. I can't... I don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself. I can't... I..." His words trailed off into silence, the images around him fading in and out of focus as he slipped into unconsciousness.

It was no wonder Kefka had grown to hate the empire. Whenever something went wrong they strapped him to a table, filled him full of medication, and started cutting him open like a slab of beef. He had scars from where they'd operated on him, track marks on his arms from needles, and burns on his hands from when he was still learning how to control his magic. He covered himself in makeup to hide the scars they'd left behind, and to make his appearance similar to the Espers who'd gifted him with such lovely abilities.

He was an abomination, a freak of nature. He knew what he looked like, dressed in multicolored layers of fabric and makeup. Kefka had never once denied the fact that he was a monster. He knew exactly what he was and he loved what he did. Even after everything they put him through he still craved power, he just didn't want them touching and pawing all over him every time he had a twinge of pain in one of his wings. It's not like they knew how to care for a mentally ill wizard with delusions of grandeur anyway. That was Terra's job, and without her he was rapidly descending into a new level of madness the likes of which they'd never seen before.

Within minutes of entering the meeting room and taking his seat at the table, Kefka's incoherent ramblings came to an abrupt end when he suddenly leaned forward in his seat, pulled his shirt off over his head, and hooked his claws under the stitches in his wing. A sadistic grin spread across his face. Stupid, fucking bastards. He'd do anything to watch them squirm in their shoes.

Leo looked at him from across the table. "Kefka, what are you doing?"

"Kefka." Cid raised a hand, then stood up and started slowly moving towards him. "Don't. Please, just don't."

Kefka's eyes followed him across the table. His lips parted as a fierce snarl rose from the back of his throat, his wings spread with layers of white, downy feathers standing on end. The doctor froze, and suddenly a scream tore from his lips as Kefka jerked his hand forward and ripped the stitches out of his wing.

The madman laughed, his fingers coming away with bloody strands of flesh held together with bits of string. Flecks of blood spattered the table, his wing dripping blood down the back of the chair. "You can't stitch me back together, Cid. I'm nothing but a broken toy, one that you destroyed with your own two hands." Kefka glared at him, relishing the look of horror on his face. "I want you think about that as you watch me bleed, as you hear me scream. I'm broken, and it's all because of you."

He hurled the gruesome mess at the doctor, plastering the side of his face with torn bits of thread, then conjured a ball of white light and held it over his bleeding wing. The light absorbed into his skin, healing the wound in a matter of seconds.

Kefka folded his arms on the table, his face showing no sign of emotion as he addressed the Emperor. "Where is she?" he asked, speaking in a dull, unamused tone. "It's been days and we haven't heard anything from the soldiers in Narshe."

Silence filled the room as the others stared at him; Leo with his mouth hanging open in shock, Cid with wet globs of blood and surgical threads clinging to his face and neck. Kefka drummed his fingers on the table, his eyes moving from one stunned expression to the next. His lips quivered, and suddenly he burst into raucous laughter that echoed off the cold, steel walls. It wasn't until Gestahl started to speak that his laughter finally died down.

"It'll be several days before we hear from General Celes and her troops, Palazzo. You must be patient. Because until we have confirmation from miss Chere that Terra is indeed missing, we will be unable to act on the situation."

Kefka cocked his feathered head to the side. "Right right. Of course. Send little miss glitter blizzard to Narshe." He spread his hands wide and placed them on the table, his face shadowed by the overhanging lights as he leaned forward in his seat. "And what makes you think she didn't plan this? You know I don't trust her. And yet you carelessly tossed her out the door with Terra following behind like a puppy." He spat the last word in his sentence with contempt, his hands twitching as he jerked his head sideways.

Dr. Cid, who was now in the process of cleaning the bloody mess off his face with a handkerchief, looked up when he heard Kefka launch into another one of his hate filled rants about Celes. The mage was twitching and shaking, the word "hate" flowing from his lips like a babbling brook. Sometimes he wondered if Kefka had developed a vocal tic as a result of the experiments they'd performed on him.

"Hate hate hate hate hate hate that... that... glittery little bitch!" Kefka clenched his fists and slammed them on the table, his words spilling rapidly from his lips as he all but screamed in Gestahl's face. "I have reason mind you, good reason to hate... to believe that she can't be trusted. She's become disillusioned with the empire. It was ever since I became General, and it only got worse when I put the slave crown on Terra. She does her job, but she resents being part of a country that has no qualms about forcing others into slavery to get the job done."

"That is because she and Terra are friends," said Leo. "You can't expect her to be pleased with a situation that forces Terra to act against her will."

"Oh, brilliant deduction, Leo!" Kefka shouted, waving a hand in the General's direction. "How many years did it take you to come up with that one?"

"Palazzo!" Gestahl snapped. "I will not tolerate this sort of behavior. Either you behave yourself and treat your commanding officer with respect, or I will have you thrown out faster than you can blink." He waited for Kefka to settle down before continuing their conversation. Though if looks could kill Gestahl would be dead from the expression on Kefka's face. "What proof do you have that any of this true? You cannot claim that one of my highest ranking officials is showing signs of rebellion without proof, Palazzo."

"Highest ranking..." Kefka ground his teeth together. "Listen to your men, dammit!" he snarled. "I've seen more than my fair share of unrest amongst her troops." Another spasm caused him to jerk forward in his seat. "You can ask them if you don't believe me. Yes, question the men in her troop. Question them, threaten them, burn them. I'll help with the burning if you want." He started giggling, which quickly escalated into an explosive fit of laughter.

Emperor Gestahl looked at him with interest, watching as the mage tilted his chair back on two legs. Kefka was so overcome with laughter that he could scarcely breathe, his eyes watering as muddled streams of red makeup spilled down his face. Leo leapt from his seat to catch him as Kefka's chair tipped over. The mage collapsed in his arms, consumed with wild laughter as Cid and Gestahl stood up and leaned over the table to get a better look at him.

Leo looked helplessly at them, as if to say that he didn't know what to do with him.

Cid came around to the other side of the table, and knelt beside the General as they helped Kefka to his feet. "Kefka, stop. Get a hold of yourself."

The mage snickered, grinning as he looked up at the Emperor. "It's no coincidence that Terra escaped the moment I turned my back on little miss glitter blizzard. You ordered me to go with them, and what did she do? She dismissed me. She sent me home as soon as she could. She said she didn't approve of my methods, but there was more to it than that. I know. I'm sure of it."

"Really?" Gestahl was intrigued, and asked Kefka to tell him more about what went on in Narshe.

"Gladly." Kefka shoved Leo to the side, taking a seat in the General's chair as he recalled the events in Narshe, starting with the first night they'd spent at the inn.


	33. Shelter Amongst The Sands

It began in South Figaro when General Leo started communicating with a wealthy man who'd been giving him advice on the best way to invade the city. He discovered this willing informant during a meeting with the mayor of South Figaro. The man described ways in which the city was vulnerable to attack. This peaked his interest, and it wasn't long until Leo requested a meeting in private with this wealthy aristocrat.

They began meeting on a regular basis, and while Leo was away in South Figaro, Celes volunteered to go to Narshe and investigate the rumors that an Esper had been discovered in the mines. She was the only one who wanted to set foot inside the snow covered village, which due to the horrible cold and remote location was not favored by the majority of the Emperor's men.

The Emperor approved of her request and ordered Kefka and Terra to go with her. He believed Terra would be of use to them because of how she reacted to Espers in the past. She could sense their magic, and even putting her with Kefka after he received a strong infusion of magic was enough to trigger bizarre behavior in the little girl.

They'd seen it in her when she was very young, those unexplainable moments when she would crouch down on all fours and start growling like some sort of wild animal. And since Kefka was the only one who could control her, it was best if he came along to give her commands. He could control her at a distance if he wanted to, but it sometimes lead to delayed reactions or misinterpretation of his orders. The closer she was the better the crown worked. He designed it that way on purpose, because the main function of the slave crown was to keep her with him at all times. He didn't make it so she could serve the empire, following commands like some mindless puppet on strings. He made it so she could serve him, and he refused to send her off by herself with orders to obey Celes' commands while they were in Narshe.

It didn't take long for him to notice the hatred in her eyes every time Celes looked at him. At first he laughed, enjoying her displeasure as he forced Terra to put on a show for Celes' troops one evening at the local inn. He marched her out in front of the men, standing behind her as she knelt on the floor, her back towards him as he raised his left arm. Her movements mirrored his own as her left arm rose into the air, then the right, up then down again. Kefka mimed playing a violin, a sadistic grin on his face as he watched Celes' reaction to seeing her friend follow his every move.

It was for this reason that Celes had been avoiding him for the last three years. It sickened her to see him using Terra like that. And Gestahl was even worse because he knew what Kefka was doing with her, and yet he stood back and let it happen. They all knew what he had done to her, but no one would speak up, no one had the guts to stand up to the empire and put a stop to this madness. It reached the point where Celes wanted to scream every time she saw her with him, following the mad jester, worshipping him like a god.

Seeing her like this made Kefka laugh harder, until one evening when Celes asked if she could have a moment alone with Terra. They were outside when she approached them, the stars shining overhead as frigid winds blew through the icy mountains that surrounded them. He considered telling her no and leaving without a single glance in her direction. It's not like Terra could speak or respond to her, not unless he wanted her to. Which he didn't.

Kefka pointed to a large boulder that was protruding from a mound of snow.

"Sit."

The girl responded like a trained dog, her eyes wide and unblinking as she stared into the starry skies above.

"You have five minutes," said Kefka, his brightly colored cloak billowing out behind him as he swept across the snow.

What Celes didn't realize was that the mage lingered near the entrance of the building, his clownish form hidden in shadow as he listened to their one-sided conversation. He peered around the corner and saw Celes on one knee in the snow, tears streaming down her face as she held Terra's hand.

Celes brushed a strand of hair out of Terra's face. "Look at you," she whispered. "What has he done to you? That bastard. I wish we could leave this place and never look back. Let them have their war. It doesn't mean we have to be a part of it. I just... I should have done more for you when I had the chance." She hung her head, tears falling onto the snow when she closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Terra," she murmured. "I'm so sorry. I should have helped. I should have done something, anything to stop this."

Ever since then Kefka started paying closer attention to the General and her troops. It wasn't long until he noticed Celes having hushed conversations with the soldiers late at night when she thought no one was looking. He also saw them shooting furtive glances in his direction, always looking over their shoulder whenever they spoke with her. She was planning something, and Kefka was determined to figure out what it was.

It took some time, but eventually they uncovered the precise location of the Esper, and were met with resistance when they tried to enter the passageway leading to the northern mines. The area was heavily guarded, with soldiers and one large snail barring the way. Kefka laughed and said they could easily torch the place and move forward into the mines, but Celes held him back, arguing that Gestahl hadn't sent them there to destroy the village.

"We're outnumbered, Kefka. And if you start hurling fireballs at that thing's shell, it'll return your magic tenfold."

The mage glared at her, a muscle twitching over his left eye, which was a definite sign that he was going to explode any minute now. "So what if it returns my attack? You can absorb it with that pretty little sword you're always carrying around."

"That isn't the point, Kefka." Celes wouldn't back down. Others might have been afraid of this hideous clown, but Celes was one of the few who stood her ground, choosing to confront him rather than run away. "I know how you get when you're allowed to use magic. You could cause the tunnel to collapse and then we'll never reach the Esper."

"What then?" he snapped, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He was tempted to kill her and continue into the mines on his own. But if there was one thing he desired above all else it was power, and he knew he wouldn't get it if the Esper was buried beneath a mountain of debris. "How are we going to retrieve the Esper if we can't burn this place to the ground?"

"We return to Vector and gather more troops. Bring more soldiers in Magitek armor. Hopefully the show of force will be enough to convince them to stand aside without conflict." She adjusted the sword at her side, then turned on heel in a flourish of flowing silk and started down the path into town. Most people would say she was a fool to turn her back on Kefka when he was minutes away from entering a rage. But Celes had reached her limit. She'd had all she could take from the deranged clown and wanted to get away from him as soon as possible. "I don't think your services are needed here, Kefka," she added.

She reached the bottom of the hill, the cold winds whipping strands of her long, blond hair across her face as she looked back at him. She was in her element, surrounded by ice and snow, her sapphire blue eyes mirroring the darkened skies above. "I'm taking Terra and sending you home, Kefka. I can't risk having you jeopardize the mission."

There was a scream as Kefka launched himself off the side of the hill, a silver dagger flashing in the moonlight as he drew his blade and attempted to plunge it into her chest. Celes' sword sliced through the air, her movements conjuring a freezing cold blast of ice and snow. It was just enough to repel his attack and send him sprawling on his back in the snow. The General took one last look at him before continuing on her way. Her decision was final. He wasn't worth her time anyway. And anything more than a simple Blizzard would cause Kefka to start screaming that she was trying to kill him.

That was weeks ago, and now here she was, her troops in a panic over the disappearance of their fellow soldiers Biggs and Wedge. And to make matters worse, Terra had gone missing as well. She knew that it was only a matter of time before Kefka put the blame on her. She wouldn't be surprised if he concocted an elaborate story to make her actions seem worse than they actually were. If that were the case, it wouldn't be long before they arrested her and charged her with treason.

But such charges weren't unfounded. No matter how elaborate his stories were, they weren't far from the truth. She'd reached her limit with Kefka a long time ago. Seeing Terra become his slave was the final straw that pushed her over the edge, and long about now she didn't care where Terra was so long as she was safe. There was a part of her that wished she could have gone with Terra. But it wasn't meant to be. And now she was stuck here with a battalion of soldiers who were in a tizzy over the mysterious disappearance of Terra and two of their fellow soldiers.

When she discovered what had happened, Celes ordered her men to search the mines and the town, not knowing that Locke had been watching them from afar ever since Arvis called him into Narshe to rescue Terra. Arvis had seen the way Kefka treated her when they first arrived in town, and although it was obvious that she was affiliated with the empire, he decided that they should rescue her from the deranged man who was holding her prisoner.

Locke was hesitant to rescue her, and questioned why they would want to help someone who was working for the empire.

"She's a slave," said Avris. "Go down to the inn and see for yourself. It's sickening, the way he orders her around like a dog on a leash. They're using her, and if we can help she might decide to join our cause."

"Right." Locke adjusted his bandana to keep his hair from falling in his face. "And maybe she'll decide to burn everything and run."

He reluctantly agreed to free Terra from the clutches of the Imperial army. He then entered the mines through a secret passage, following along the twists and turns down into the depths of the ancient cavern. He witnessed Terra's encounter with the Esper, the air shimmering with electricity as she was lifted off her feet, screaming as the crown shattered into a dozen splintered fragments on the floor.

Lightning ricocheted off the walls, forcing him to take cover behind a boulder. There was a blinding flash, followed by an unearthly silence as Terra collapsed at the foot of the frozen Esper. She was unconscious by the time he emerged from his hiding place, the young man scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to safety, but not before stopping to gaze up at the magnificent frozen beast.

The creature's eyes shone in the darkness, glowing with a scarlet light that sent chills down his spine.

"So this is an Esper," he whispered, backing away and hoisting Terra over her shoulder. "Anyone who messes with those things has got to be out of their mind." He took one last look at the ancient creature before turning and fleeing from the mines, not stopping to look back or wonder where the other soldiers had gone.

\---------------

Terra shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun as she gazed into the distance. She could just make out the silhouette of a building on the horizon, but after spending four hours walking across the hot desert she wasn't sure if it was a castle or another mirage. The heat started playing tricks on her over an hour ago, and it didn't help that she had a headache and was on the verge of collapse from heat exhaustion.

Locke had chosen to wait until nightfall before crossing the desert, and only decided to push forward in the morning once the castle was in sight. It was easier to travel at night when the temperatures dropped, and traveling under the cover of darkness offered protection from any Imperial soldiers that might be lurking in the vicinity. There was also the threat of monsters to worry about, monsters that were more powerful than the leaf bunnies they encountered after leaving Narshe. Which was another reason why he'd chosen to travel at night when sand rays were less active.

"Come on, Terra. At this rate we should be there before noon." Locke paused to wipe the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. He looked back at Terra and saw that she was struggling to keep up with him. "Hey, you don't look so good. Want me to give you a hand?"

Terra nodded, breathless from walking uphill in the scorching heat. He put his arm around her, letting her lean on him for support as they continued uphill towards the castle.

She was in no shape to be trudging across the desert. Her head was aching fit to burst, and every time she closed her eyes she saw flashes of Kefka in her mind. She could hear him laughing even when she went to sleep, that horrible, high pitched cackle echoing in her dreams. He was always there, haunting her day and night. She even thought she saw him dancing across the sand dunes, but it turned out it was just another mirage.

She was half unconscious by the time they reached the castle. She didn't even hear Locke yelling and beating on the heavy, oaken door with his fist.

"Let us in, dammit! This girl's gonna die if she stays out here much longer!"

The doors opened, and the palace guards rushed to her side as her knees buckled and she fell forward onto the floor. They scrambled to help her up, carrying her to one of the guest bedrooms in the eastern wing of the castle. Locke was beside her in an instant, dabbing her face and neck with a damp washcloth in an attempt to bring her around.

A low groan dribbled past her lips, her eyes fluttering open only to close a moment later. Why couldn't they leave her alone? She didn't know who they were, she didn't even know who she was, and all they did was tell her to run. Run here, run there, across open fields, forests and deserts, until she was sick from exhaustion. And that voice, that nightmarish cackle that refused to let her sleep. It was part of the lingering side effects of the slave crown that would wear off in a couple days. He couldn't control her anymore, but their thoughts were still connected as though she was still under the influence of the slave crown.

"I'm sorry for dragging you out here, kid," said Locke. He folded the washcloth and laid it across her forehead. "But I had to do it in order to keep you safe. I said I'm going to protect you, and I meant it. I'm not losing anyone else. Not after what happened the last time."

The sound of footsteps drew his attention away from Terra. He looked up and saw the guards part as a tall man wearing a blue cloak made his way through the crowd of people that had gathered around the bed. The man was practically running as he entered the room, the heels of his boots clicking against the floor. He came to a stop beside the bed, where he stood gazing down at the young woman Locke had placed atop the covers.

"So this is the girl." His voice was low, barely above a whisper, his eyes traveling down the length of her body. He looked her over then glanced at Locke over his shoulder. "Didn't take long to get another woman in bed, now did it?"

"Edgar!"

The King chuckled. "My apologies. I was only joking." The laughter faded from his voice as he took on a more serious expression. "She appears to be in the early stage of heat exhaustion. We need more washcloths to bring her temperature down. And we should see if we can get some fluids in her before she loses consciousness."

Their voices swirled together, the edges of her vision darkening as Kefka's laughter returned to haunt her. She gasped, her fingers closing around Locke's wrist as she gripped his arm, her eyes wide with horror. She could see him in her mind, with wings shining like the sun. He arose from the shadowy depths of her mind, surrounded by flames, draped in dark fabric that hung from his waist and fluttered on the wind.

This man wasn't a god, nor was he an angel. He was a demon. A terrifying specter the likes of which no man had ever laid eyes on. He was on her in a second, sinking his claws into her flesh as he pulled her down, the both of them sinking into oblivion.


	34. Shared Dreams

While Terra was locked in a horrific nightmare, seeing visions of her captor as she fought to escape the clutches of the clownish mage, Kefka was also experiencing the same kind of nightmarish vision. They were linked by one remaining thread, sharing each other's dreams as he sought to locate his precious doll. When they awoke, their connection would be forever broken. But until then they were forced to tolerate each other's company, watching as their greatest fears come to life right before their very eyes.

It came as no surprise that Terra feared being like him. She saw herself as a monster, with claws like razors and eyes that shone like burning pieces of coal. When he looked at her he saw his greatest treasure, an Esper in its prime, with enough magic to fuel an entire army of Magitek soldiers. But she didn't belong to them. She was his, and yet every time he tried to approach her he was met with a wall of fire rising from the mouths of the monsters that had poisoned his mind.

These creatures were both a blessing and a curse. They had gifted him with extraordinary magical abilities, but all magic came with a price, changing him into something that was not unlike the form she took in the dream world. For in this realm there was nothing to disguise their appearance, their true nature revealed as they ran from one burning horizon to the next, until the scene began to change and Kefka found himself alone inside a castle.

The roars of the enraged Espers faded into silence, the only sound coming from the heels of his boots as he turned in circles searching for his missing queen. The window to his left was open, with royal blue fabric trimmed in silver moving and dancing on the wind.

Kefka moved towards the curtain, grasping the fabric and running his thumb over the royal crest that had been embroidered onto the plush material with silver threads. His eyes narrowed as he studied the design, his fingernail catching on a loose thread and pulling it away from silver fibers embedded in the fabric. This symbol was used by the kings and queens of Figaro, not those who were alive during the War of the Magi.

"She's here," he whispered, his nails digging into the fabric. "She has to be. This is where she went when I lost control of her."

The sound of footsteps drew his attention away the intricate designs on the curtains. Something was moving, and when he turned around he saw a young woman running down the hall, her violet hair streaming out behind her as she disappeared down a flight of stairs.

Lightning flashed outside the windows, illuminating the hideous grin that crept across his face. Kefka raced towards the stairs, taking them two at a time as he chased the fleeing Esper down the hall. When he found her she was cowering in the corner, shaking with fright as she lifted her head and gazed into his bright blue eyes.

Tears sprang from her eyes as his hand closed around her wrist, screams mingling with laughter as he gripped her hard enough to bruise her pale skin. She was afraid, but more than anything she wanted to know why. Why was he hunting her? What did he want? The answer never came, and before she had time to react the ground caved in beneath them, crumbling in a heartbeat as they plunged into the darkness far below.

\------------------

He awoke with a start several hours later, his bedsheets drenched in sweat. Dr. Cid nearly leapt out of his seat, the book flying from his hands as Kefka sat bolt upright in bed.

"Kefka!" He clutched his chest, breathing deeply in an effort to calm his racing heart. "I'm getting too old for this." When he looked up Kefka was staring vacantly at the wall, seeing something that no one else could see.

"She's in Figaro," Kefka whispered, his lips barely moving when he spoke. He was nearly flying from the bed a moment later, but he only managed to walk two steps across the floor when the tube taped to the back of his hand was pulled taut. He was just about to pull the needle out of his hand when the doctor pounced on him and forced him down on the bed.

Kefka struggled briefly before his strength gave out, his eyes half closed as he sank into the mound of pillows on the bed. He hadn't eaten or slept since Terra's disappearance, leaving him weak from hunger and exhausted from lack of sleep. The only nourishment he'd had since collapsing in the meeting room came from the intravenous fluids flowing through the tube in his hand.

"She's in Figaro castle!" he exclaimed. "Let me go! I have to find her!"

"Figaro castle?" Cid doubted that it was true. And even if it was, there was no way to prove the validity of his claims without sending someone to investigate. "How do you know she's there? She could be anywhere by now and we haven't the slightest idea where she is."

"You doubt my abilities?" Kefka shifted slightly on the bed, his wings beating against the mattress like an injured dove. "Do not doubt the word of god!" he screeched. "I know where she is! I saw her! Let me go, dammit, or I'll rip your head off and shove it six feet up your ass sideways!"

Dr. Cid hesitated before releasing him. He took a step back, watching as the mage folded his wings and sat up in bed. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, with Kefka's fierce gaze practically burning a hole in him.

Kefka pulled the needle out of his hand, his eyes on fire with azure flames, his claws snagging the sheets as he got to his feet and pushed past the doctor, knocking him to the floor as he made his way towards the exit. "Send word to Albrook and have them ready the next available ship to South Figaro. My sweet magic user, I will have her. She's mine. Mine, do you hear? No one else!" He was almost to the door when his strength gave out and he collapsed onto his knees, his palms pressed against the cold linoleum.

It was always something, he thought, struggling against the pain as his body threatened to give out on him. Curse this mortal form, still clinging to its humanity while magic boiled beneath the surface of his skin. He was better than this, he'd moved past them and was reaching for something more. And yet he was still sick, still trapped in this human body that refused to let him go.

His vision darkened, and the world turned upside down as he was lifted off the floor.

"You're in no shape to be going anywhere. We need to get some food in your belly, then consult with the Emperor about sending troops to Figaro. Though I doubt he'd be willing to let you retrieve her if you can't even walk across the floor, Kefka."

His vision cleared and he found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, his left arm outstretched as the doctor bandaged his bleeding hand. He kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with aging scientist. He was tempted to roast this insipid little monkey and be on his way, but a sudden wave of dizziness prevented him from moving.

Did he spend the past three days bouncing off the walls and screaming that they needed to find her? It certainly felt like he did. As usual he'd forgotten most of what happened during the last few days, but he knew how it felt when he stopped eating and sleeping. His body shut down and he started getting sick and dizzy. His headaches became more and more frequent until he eventually collapsed from illness and exhaustion.

It was a never ending cycle, one that had repeated itself a number of times during the last eleven years. He lifted his chin, glaring at the man who was responsible for causing his illness. "I hate you," he muttered, his voice dripping with contempt. He shifted slightly, flexing his wings as he sat up straight on the edge of the bed.

The doctor looked up, pausing in his work as the mage's hand shot out and wrapped around his neck. He started to collapse, sinking down onto his knees as Kefka watched him crumble at his feet.

His pale blue eyes were devoid of any sort of emotion, a frown upon his face as the doctor spluttered and gasped, struggling for breath as Kefka sunk his claws into his neck. "I could kill you if I wanted to," he hissed, speaking slowly so as to prolong the doctor's suffering. "The only reason you're still alive is because I've decided to let you live. But your time will come soon enough, just like everyone else in this miserable world. And when it does, you will see the horrors of your own creation."

He tightened his grip, a sadistic smile spreading across his face as the doctor's eyes rolled back in his head. Kefka laughed, releasing him and letting him fall to the floor. Any longer and he would have succeeded in strangling the poor man.

\-----------------

While Kefka was laughing and making his usual threats, Terra was recovering from her trek across the desert. This was the first time since she'd woken up in Narshe that she was able to stop and take in her surroundings. For days she'd been pushed and pulled in so many directions that she didn't know if she was coming or going, and it didn't help that a majority of her memories had been erased when the slave crown broke.

She sat up slowly, feeling the crisp, clean linen rustle against her skin. The windows were open, letting the warm desert winds caress her skin and hair. Locke was dozing in a chair beside the bed, his sandy hair falling into his face, partially obscuring the trail worn features of a young man who'd experienced much in a short amount of time.

She took a moment to examine her surroundings, noting the plush material that covered the floor and hung from the walls near the open window. It was a rich, luxurious fabric, brightly colored and hand stitched with silver threads. This looked like the sort of place where one might find a king or queen, but surely this rugged, trail worn adventurer wasn't the one in charge. Or was he? Stranger things have happened, she thought, blinking and looking at him with curiosity.

She was about to speak when the door opened and Edgar appeared in the doorway.

Locke snorted and hooked his thumb under the hem of his bandana, lifting it up and peeking out from under the faded strip of fabric. "Hey, you're awake." A smile graced his features as he sat up straight, then glanced towards the door as Edgar walked into room.

"Good afternoon," said Edgar, putting on his most pleasant smile as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss on her lightly tanned skin. "And how are we feeling this afternoon?"

Locke rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh come on, Edgar. She doesn't even remember who she is, and here you are hitting on her when she hasn't been awake for five minutes."

Edgar looked offended. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was exchanging pleasantries and attempting to determine the condition of her well being."

"And you can't do that without putting your lips all over her?"

"Ignore him," said Edgar, turning to Terra and running his thumb over the back of her hand. "I'm afraid this thief has no sense of manners or chivalry."

"I'm a treasure hunter!" Locke exclaimed. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"

Edgar chuckled, amused by his friend's sudden outburst. "That's Locke for you," he said, grinning as he looked back at the young woman sitting in his bed. "Always insistent on being called a treasure hunter rather than a common thief. My name is Edgar, by the way. King Edgar of Figaro, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Terra stared at him, unsure of what to do or say. She hadn't the slightest idea who these people were or why they had taken a sudden interest in her.

"Here." Edgar reached for a pitcher on the nightstand and filled a glass with water before handing it to her. "Drink this. You look as though you're dehydrated from your journey through the desert. Can't have our pretty young lady withering up like a prune, now can we?"

Terra blinked and looked him in confusion. "I don't understand. I don't know you, and yet you've taken me in and given me a place to stay when I don't know why I'm here in the first place." She paused, her eyes drifting from Locke's rugged features to immaculate King sitting beside her on the bed. "Why are you being so kind to me? Is it because of my abilities?"

"I'll give you three reasons." He held up a hand, checking them off on his fingers as he went. "First of all, your beauty has captivated me. Second, I'm dying to know if I'm your type. I guess your abilities would rank a distant third."

She looked at him as though she didn't understand what he was saying. What he told her didn't offer much of an explanation. If anything it only left her feeling more confused.

The smile faded from Edgar's face when he didn't get the response he was hoping for. He cleared his throat, standing up and moving away from the bed. "Yes, well, I guess my technique's getting a bit rusty." He swept past them, pausing to glance over his shoulder before he left the room. "See to it that she gets plenty of rest and fluids. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to."

Locke snorted in amusement, enjoying the look of rejection on the King's face.

"Is something wrong?" asked Terra.

"Don't mind him." Locke waved off her concern. "He's used to having his way with women. You're the first person to turn down his advances in a long time."

"Was I... Was I supposed to feel something?"

"No, no, that's quite alright, Terra. Guy like him needs to get shot down every once in a while. You know what I'm saying?" Locke grinned and winked at her.

'"No." Terra shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I don't I understand. I suppose a normal girl would have felt something at those words, but not me."

His features softened, a sigh escaping his lips as he shifted in his seat. "Hey, don't worry about it. You've been through a lot, and no one expects you to recover right away. Right now the only thing you need to focus on getting some rest." There was a great deal of sympathy and compassion in his eyes, his voice kind and reassuring when he spoke. He leaned back in his seat, his hands clasped behind his head as he put his feet up and tilted the chair back. "That Edgar, he's a bit of a pervert but he's a good person too. I know it looks like he sides with the empire, but in reality he's working with an underground group called the Returners. I serve as their go-between."

"The empire?" Terra lowered the glass of water, her eyes widening as she recalled a time when she was surrounded by machines, the smoke rising above the rooftops as the soldiers marched in the streets. She'd been there before, but when? And how did she get there in the first place? "But I'm an Imperial soldier!" she blurted out, startled by the fact that she had once served the empire.

"Not anymore," said Locke. "They were using you, that's all. And now you're free to make your own decisions."

She thought about it for a moment, and could have sworn she saw Kefka standing off to the side, his lean frame shadowed by the nearby buildings. She remembered the way he glared at Leo and Celes as they marched at the head of the army. He would kill them if he could, she was sure of it. She knew because he tried it once before, which resulted in a four month stay in a mental institution. They released him because of her, because she said she would look after him. And then everything was blank.

"I'm free?" she murmured, trying to recall a time in which she had been forced to act against her will. But it had all blurred together, until she couldn't tell the feathers in his hair from the feathers that covered the frozen Esper's body. They appeared to be one and the same, Kefka and the Esper. And if that were true then what was she? Why could she use magic? And how did they know that she was capable of such a thing? She hadn't even tried using magic, and yet she knew it was there, burning beneath her skin, racing through her blood like wildfire through a field of dry wheat. She knew she was different, she could feel it. But she didn't know why she was different.

"Yes, you are." Locke nodded, his chair wobbling slightly. "And you can stay here as long as you like. Just try not to think too hard about whay happened. It'll come back to you in time. I'm sure of it."

Terra hung her head, not knowing what to do or say in this situation. He sounded so confidant, so sure that everything was going to be alright. But even if she got her memories back, who's to say that the choices she made were right? What if these people were lying? What if she belonged with the empire? She had no way of knowing what was right and what was wrong. All she could do was wait and hope she made the right decision.

And as for Kefka, well, that was a different matter entirely. The brief flashes she saw of him left her feeling frightened and confused. Did she truly belong with him? And if so why? What connection did he have to her?

She turned her head, gazing out the window at the pale clouds moving across the horizon. The skies were growing dark over Figaro. Another day was coming to a close, and she still didn't have the answers she was looking for.


	35. Visions Of The Past

The following morning Kefka was brought before the Emperor. He was accompanied by pair of armed guards, walking on either side of him as he approached the throne room. They were to escort him to the Emperor, because ever since his episode during the banquet he was banned from being in close proximity to Gestahl without someone close by. Gestahl didn't believe that Kefka would be foolish enough to attack him, nor did he think the crazed jester had a reason to. But it didn't hurt to take precautions whenever Kefka was around.

As soon as he came face to face with the Emperor Kefka quickly launched into the story of what he'd seen, claiming that Terra was somewhere in Figaro castle. Not that it helped much, because he was unable to offer any proof as to where she was currently located.

"She's in Figaro!" Kefka screeched, bouncing up and down like a mad rabbit. The guards looked at him like he was out of his mind, which of course he was. "Goddammit, I know what I saw! She was surrounded by stone walls and floors and enough fabric to cover the palace in silk. If that doesn't say Figaro castle then I'm a litwor chicken!"

The guard on his left snorted. Kefka had enough feathers in his hair to pass for a chicken any day of the week.

The Emperor considered him for a moment, taking into account the unusual bond between Kefka and Terra that existed due to the slave crown. But Kefka claimed the crown was broken, and although he knew that Kefka was mentally incapacitated, the mage wasn't likely to tell everyone that the crown was broken unless he had good reason to. All he had to go by was a letter from Celes stating that Terra has mysteriously disappeared, however nothing about the slave crown was ever mentioned.

"You can't be more specific, Palazzo?" His question was met with an ear piercing scream.

"I demand to be sent to Figaro!"

General Leo came forward, ordering Kefka to behave himself while the Emperor thought things through. But Kefka wasn't listening. He lunged at the General, only to be caught around the waist by the guards and drug across the floor.

"She's in Figaro!" he hollered, still struggling as the guards moved him away from General Leo. "Yes, yes! She is! Let me go and I promise... I promise I will find her and bring her back, your Highness." He spat the last word with contempt, his arms pinned behind his back as he slipped and fell down on one knee.

Leo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Your Majesty, I believe we have gathered enough information from our informant in South Figaro to successfully invade the city." He turned to face the Emperor. "Might I suggest that we begin the process of taking over South Figaro? From there we can push forward into Narshe. And with Celes already in the area, we could have her work on conquering the city while Kefka investigates the situation the Figaro. I'm sure Terra couldn't have gotten far, and with troops in both locations we're bound to recover her eventually."

"You really think that will help?" growled Kefka, gritting his teeth and snarling like some wild animal. "Celes is probably the one who let her go in the first place. If she's involved then we'll never find her!"

"Your Highness?" Leo looked at him, waiting for Gestahl to make a decision.

"Are you aware of the fact that there is an ongoing investigation regarding Miss Chere and the disappearance of Terra Branford?"

A wicked smile slowly spread across Kefka's painted lips.

Leo hesitated before answering. "No, sir. I was not informed of this."

"Then perhaps you ought to acquaint yourself with such basic knowledge before you start making suggestions. I'll have you know that Palazzo's accusations have been proven correct, thanks to the remaining members of her troop that weren't sent to Narshe. They informed me of her traitorous nature, and stated that she has, on more than one occasion, considered resigning from the military."

Laughter built within his chest, his eyes fixated on the General as Gestahl went on to explain that he would grant Kefka permission to go to Figaro. It wasn't until the Emperor announced that he was sending troops to South Figaro for the purpose of claiming the city, as well as capturing and executing General Celes, that Kefka collapsed in a fit of hysterical laughter. Like it or not, he was going to have his way. And there was nothing Leo or anyone else could do about it.

Kefka continued to laugh, his shoulders shaking and his feathers bobbing with each shrill cackle that escaped his lips. The guards exchanged awkward glances, then slowly released him and let him fall to the floor where he rolled over and over across the carpet.

Leo said nothing, his head down as he listened to Kefka's laughter echoing off the walls. He had difficulty believing that Celes would turn against the empire. She was one of the most loyal, dedicated and hard working members of the Imperial army. She had proven time and time again that she had what it took to rise to the top, and in some cases she worked harder than most of the men he knew. But she was stubborn, fiercely independent with a kind heart beneath her cold exterior. And when she saw her friend being made into a puppet for Kefka's amusement, it was enough to make her want to distance herself from the empire.

Celes wasn't the sort of person who wore her heart on her sleeve. You never knew exactly what she was feeling unless someone upset her. And when she was upset you'd best get out of her way. She was as beautiful as she was dangerous, and she was Leo's friend. He'd cared for her since she was a child, taking her in and raising her when her parents passed away. He was there for her before the empire took an interest in her, before Cid started getting close to her and turned her into one of his Esper infused experiments.

It pained him to hear Gestahl announce that she would be captured and put to death. Leo turned around, his mouth forming a thin line as he looked down at the crazed magician. He was disgusted by Kefka's behavior, his shrill laughter making him cringe when the noise reached his ears. He took one last look at the Emperor, glancing back at him over his shoulder, and left the room.

\---------------

One by one the days slowly passed, the nights growing shorter as spring faded into summer. Temperatures began to climb, bringing with it the first heat wave of the season. If Terra thought it was hot before, this new level of scorching heat was enough to make the fossil dragons turn to dust.

She moved to sit beside an open window, wiping the sweat off her face with a damp washcloth. The sun had set, and a faint breeze was blowing across the desert sands, but it did little to relieve the heat that had been absorbed by the castle walls throughout the day. She looked up when she heard the door open and saw Locke standing in the doorway. His hair was wet, with drops of water clinging to the sides of his face. He looked as though he'd just gotten out of the shower and had forgotten to dry his hair.

"Dinner's ready," he said, reaching back and tugging on the knot that held his bandana in place.

Terra sniffed and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Did you put on the same clothes you were wearing before your shower?"

"Well, yeah. I've only worn this outfit a few days. And it's not like I've got a variety of clothes to choose from." He stepped out into the hall, holding the door open as he motioned with his free hand for her to follow him. "Come on. They're serving spaghetti, roast beef and salad tonight. Don't want it gettin' cold, now do you?"

"No, I don't."

She rose from her seat and followed him downstairs, the flickering torches bathing her features in a gentle glow. The castle contained a variety of advanced weapons and technology, and yet it lacked the modern conveniences found only in the city of Vector. There was no electricity, no cooling system in place to keep the residents from overheating. Which is why Locke frequented the shower in the guest room, because frequent showers, along with fans powered by the desert winds, was all they had to keep cool.

As they made their way down the staircase that would lead them to the dining room, Terra thought she heard someone speaking. A whisper, followed by the sound of laughter, laughter that was not her own nor did it resemble that of the person next to her. What she didn't know was that Kefka had stayed in Figaro castle, and that the scorch marks in the carpet had been caused by one of his tantrums.

These halls contained the secrets of his past, as well as the memories of who he was before he went insane. If she listened carefully, she could hear the ghost of his laugh emanating from the walls. But it was more than the brief flashes she'd seen during their escape from Narshe. Those were her memories that had been shattered from the effects of the slave crown. The sights and sounds that followed her throughout the castle belonged to Kefka. They were his memories, which had merged with hers during the time she'd been under his control.

It wasn't long until she started dreaming of the time he spent in Figaro. She viewed the world through his eyes, watching him dance and feeling his movements as he skipped across the floor. She saw him sitting in the sand, a coloring book in his lap, his hand suspended over the book as he watched the sun rising in the distance. His hand was trembling, his eyes wide as the whispers in the back of his mind grew to become screams. The next thing she knew he was running through the desert, screaming and cursing because there was sand on his boots.

Seeing through his eyes gave her a unique understanding of what he was going through at the time. She felt his sickness, his aching limbs wrapped around his torso as he lie awake at night, shivering and shaking despite the lingering heat from the desert. It was like being granted a window into his mind, and yet she still had no idea who he was or why she was seeing these images from his past.

These memories started coming back when she sat down at the table, which made it difficult for her to focus on the conversation taking place around her. Kefka's words kept interrupting her thoughts, his conversation with Edgar's father drifting through her mind as though he were sitting next to her at the table. They continued to haunt her as she absentmindedly twirled the spaghetti around her fork, massaging her temples with her other hand in an attempt to relieve the pain that was building over her left eye. Every now and then she would glance at the head of the table, and instead of seeing Edgar perched upon his ornate throne she saw his father Stewart.

It bothered her to see such images drifting before her eyes like the mirages she saw while crossing the desert. It couldn't be real, but then again none of this felt like it was really happening. Her life had become a strange mixture of dreams and surreal images mingling with the horrors of her past, until she wasn't entirely sure whether or not she was awake or experiencing another dream.

A weary sigh slipped past her lips, her fork scraping against the plate as she pushed a meatball onto a mound of spaghetti. She didn't even notice when Locke placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice startling her out of her thoughts when he asked if she was alright.

The young woman started, leaping nearly a foot in the air as she turned around and saw Locke looking at her with concern. A moment passed where she did nothing but stare at him, unable to find her voice as she struggled to determine whether or not she should answer his question. Terra could lie and say she was alright, but that didn't seem like a wise decision. And to make matters worse she couldn't tell if seeing things through the eyes of the mad jester was another side effect of the device she'd been wearing before they found her, or if she had suffered brain damage while traveling across the desert. She was about to speak when the double doors leading out into the hall opened, and a young solider sprinted into the room.

"King Edgar! There's someone from the empire here to see you, sir!

Edgar frowned in annoyance, pushing his chair out and rising from his seat. "Kefka, no doubt," he muttered, sweeping past them and heading for the door.

"Kefka?" Terra stared at him, then winced as the sharp pain that was building above her eye worsened. "His name's Kefka, isn't it?" She hesitated for a fraction of a second before continuing, her eyes staring straight ahead as though she were trying to see something that was invisible to everyone else in the room. "He's the one who did this to me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Although it sounded like question, Locke and Edgar felt fairly certain that she was remembering what happened to her in the past. Edgar took a moment to reassure her that everything was alright before crossing the room and heading out the door. It wasn't long until the familiar voice of Kefka Palazzo reached his ears, his high pitched scream carrying across the desert as he cursed every grain of sand within a five hundred mile radius. Twice.

Edgar sighed heavily, praying for patience as he prepared to face the clownish mage. He opened the door and saw Kefka kicking up his heels like he was attempting to dance the cancan. Sand flew in all directions as the jester let fly with a string of obscenities, still hopping and parading around like his feet were on fire.

"Edgar, you heavy load of stinking shit! Why the hell do you have to live out in the middle of nowhere?" He came to an abrupt halt, stopping his mad dance across the burning sand. Kefka glared at his troops. "Ahem! There's sand on my boots," he said, pointing to the mismatched boots he was wearing.

Two soldiers broke rank and ran forward. They knelt beside him and began dusting the sand off his boots, and all while King Edgar stood there staring at the clownish apparition like he was out of his mind. When they were finished, they both leapt up shouting, "Sir, all clean, sir!"

"Idiots!" Kefka exclaimed, laughing as he kicked sand in their faces. He then turned around and spied Edgar standing in the doorway, a hideous grin spreading from ear to ear as he snickered and giggled. "Well, hello. Long time no see, Edgar. Or perhaps I should call you King since that unfortunate accident with your father." His cruel laugher rose on the wind, traveling across courtyard and into the kitchen window where it reached Locke and Terra.

Locke shuddered when he heard the sound of Kefka's raucous laughter. "Is that Kefka?" He moved towards the window, looking down at the young man who was currently entertaining the King with his unique brand of insanity. "I didn't know the circus was in town," he said, grinning as he motioned for Terra to come over. "Hey, Terra, get a load of this guy. He's got more feathers in his hair than a flock of chocobos."

Terra hesitated before getting up from the table. She moved in slow motion towards the window, her mind unable to comprehend what she was seeing. Her heart told her that she knew him, but at the same time she was unable to recognize him.

A mixture of loathing and disgust formed on the King's face. "Kefka Palazzo, the Emperor's court mage. What brings Kefka, loyal servant to Emperor Gestahl, into our presence?"

"What brings me here?" Kefka came forward, shoving the guard aside as he marched up the stairs. "You know damn well why I'm here. A girl, a young girl with green hair, recently escaped from us. She is a Magitek Elite, and is she is my..." A muscle twitched over his eye, his lips quivering as he fought not to laugh. "Pet," he spat, raising a hand and combing his fingers through the plumage in his hair. He wasn't aware of the fact that his hands were shaking, his muscles spasming from the stress of losing his favorite toy.

"I see." Edward slipped his hands into his pockets. "Well, I'm sorry you've lost your pet, Kefka. Perhaps you should consider getting an animal the next time you wish to enslave someone."

Kefka chuckled, leaning sideways and peering around the King. "And just how do you know I enslaved anyone, hmm?" He raised an eyebrow, looking back at Edgar and cackling despite his efforts to maintain a professional appearance.

"People are not animals, Kefka. You've no right to go around making pets out of them."

"Then what do you call this?" asked Kefka, waving a hand towards the many women that passed in the hall. "Some sort of brothel?"

"It is a harem, Kefka. Perhaps you would know that if your experience with women went beyond wearing their makeup."

"I don't need anyone other than her!" Kefka snarled, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Now where is she? We have reason to believe that she has taken refuge here, and I won't stop until she is back where she belongs."

Edgar shook his head. This man's obsession was as plain as the makeup on his face. "That's a tough question. There are more women here than there are grains of sand. You can't expect me to be able to keep track of them all."

"She has green hair!" Kefka shouted, his sudden outburst making the king jump a foot in the air. "She can conjure fire like one of the eight dragons of legend! You would know if you saw her." He started shaking, his feathers quivering as he brought his hands in front of his face. "She is a fine specimen, a truly wondrous creation. If I could sink my claws into her delicate flesh, that sweet, sweet magic that is hers, I would never let her go. Never again."

Edgar took a step back, looking rather uneasy as he watched Kefka's hands close around thin air, laughing as he mimed snatching her like a bird upon the wind. It made him wonder what Kefka was using her for, and he repressed a shudder as a barrage of violent and unnatural acts filled his mind.

Kefka looked down at his trembling hands. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wide, his heart pounding against his ribs. He could feel the magic surging through his veins. It was so close to the surface, so close, like a cauldron of seething magma, ready to erupt and launch itself a mile into the air. If she was here, if they were hiding her behind this lecherous king and his harem of women, he'd burn this place to the ground to find her.

He lowered his hands, the smile returning to his face as he cocked his head to the side and said, "I truly hope nothing happens to your precious Figaro." Kefka turned on heel and marched down the stairs, his lavish cloak billowing out behind him as he went.

"Save your threats, Kefka," Edgar called after him. "I haven't seen this woman you're looking for. And stone doesn't burn. So you can forget about burning this place to the ground like you did in Albrook."

"You forget, Edgar, that even though stone doesn't burn people do," said Kefka, glancing at him over his shoulder. "Besides, a Flare spell can melt stone. I know. I've experimented."

Edgar watched his retreating form as Kefka and his troops left the area. He didn't like the looks of this, and returned at once to his castle, where he found Locke and Terra gazing out the window in the dining room.

"You heard that?" he asked, and Locke nodded in response.

"That guy's got some screws loose," said Locke, making a circular motion in the air with his finger.

"You don't know the half of it," said Edgar, a hint of bitterness present in his tone when he spoke. He nodded in Terra's direction. "Take her to her room. I need to speak with the Chancellor and make sure things are in order for when Kefka returns."

"Do you really think he'll come back?" asked Terra. She was wringing her hands while glancing at the door as though she expected him to come bursting through any minute now.

"Positive," said Edgar, his expression grim. "If there's one thing I've learned from my encounters with the empire's failed science experiment it's that Kefka is highly persistent. He won't stop until he gets what he wants. But we aren't going to let him have it. You're safe, and I intend on keeping it that way."


	36. Broken Toy

Night had fallen over Figaro, the pale moonlight illuminating the campsite that had been hastily constructed on the outskirts of the desert. Kefka sat alone in his tent, his hand moving over the doll in his lap as he brushed her soft, green curls. He'd been brushing its hair for the past hour, his eyes unblinking as he gazed at the wall in front of him.

She was close. He could feel the magic that flowed through her veins, its subtle vibration creating an invisible current that filled the air around her. It was a unique magical signature, one that was similar to his own. He started rocking back and forth, waiting for her energy levels to dissipate as they usually did each night when she went to sleep. When that moment came, when she was asleep and vulnerable, he would storm the castle with his troops and burn everything to the ground. Every last man, woman and child, every stone right down to the foundation of the building. There would be nothing left but her.

The moon parted ways with the horizon, turning the sand a pale shade of silver. Kefka stood up and made his way towards the entrance of the tent, pushing the flap aside and gazing out into the starry skies above. He didn't realize that Terra had more memories of this place than he did, and that she was tossing and turning in her sleep, trying to find peace while the sound of his laughter haunted her dreams. The only thing he could remember was falling head over heels through the King's bedroom window, his cloak falling forward into his face as he hit the floor. There was a bottle of wine on the table, a splash of green, then nothing.

He watched the lights go out, the stone halls growing dark as the hours slowly passed. His nails dug into the doll's body, his hands twitching as he jerked his head to the side, wincing as another spasm caused his facial muscles to contort. He needed her. She was the only one who could stop this. She was his, she belonged to him, and he would stop at nothing to get her back.

He turned to face the troops, his lavish cloak rippling on the wind. A feather escaped his ponytail and drifted on the rising air current towards the clouds. Kefka raised his hand, signaling the troops to move out. The ground shook as soldiers in suits of armor raced towards the castle. A scream pierced the silence, and streams of fire lit the sky for miles around.

Kefka watched as the soldiers unleashed wave after punishing wave of fire upon the inhabits of the castle. Those that weren't in Magitek armor stormed the gates, slaughtering the guards and forcing their way into the castle. He was pleased with what he saw, but it wasn't enough. He needed to find her, and if he relied on these fools to get the job done he would soon be combing the ruins for what was left of his precious toy.

He took a moment to concentrate, inhaling deeply as he felt the energy pooling in the pit of his stomach. He directed it towards the soles of his feet, and slowly he began to rise until he was high enough to view the courtyard. This was it. He was going to claim her for his own. No one else. Just her.

His eyes scanned the area below, watching the terrified people screaming and running for their lives. And in the middle of it all was Edgar, still clad in his pajamas after being woken up in the middle of the night.

The mage laughed, a ball of fire in each hand as he prepared to unleash his magic on the unfortunate King. "This is your last chance, Edgar!" he shouted. "Give me the girl or you can watch your kingdom burn!"

The King moved towards the rampart, backing away from the insane jester. He reached for the ledge behind him, his eyes wide and staring. Kefka's body was surrounded by undulating waves of heat, the air shimmering with amber colored flecks of light. "So this is magic," he whispered. Edgar swallowed hard, glancing to the side where Locke stood in his worn jeans and t-shirt. "Get her ready."

"Right." Locke nodded, his eyes fixated on the glowing apparition in the sky. He turned and ran downstairs, taking the steps two at a time as he bolted towards the guest bedroom.

"Edgar!" Kefka snarled, the swirling balls of fire growing larger by the minute. He raised his hands above his head, causing the burning spheres to merge into one massive ball of fire. "I'm losing my patience! If she isn't here in the next five minutes, I'm burning this place to the ground."

If Kefka was telling the truth about using a Flare spell to melt stone, then all hell was going to break loose the moment he unleashed his attack. And judging by the size of the rapidly growing fireball, dozens if not hundreds of people could be killed in the process.

Locke emerged from the staircase a moment later, running with Terra as they entered the courtyard. Terra gasped, a scream building in her throat the moment she laid eyes on the clownish mage. Her muscles seized up as she was paralyzed with fright, her mouth opening in a silent scream as Kefka's laughter filled the air.

"There you are!" said Kefka, squealing in delight at the sight of the young woman. The light around him flickered, fading as the fireball dissolved. He rose briefly before diving through the air, still laughing as he closed in on the frightened girl.

"Go! Now!" The King shouted, leaping off the rampart and onto a chocobo that was waiting below.

Locke seized her by the wrist, taking a running leap as he and Terra dove off the rampart, narrowly avoiding the hideous clown as he flew into the courtyard.

Kefka stopped short of hitting the wall, his lean form hovering a foot in the air as he watched Terra disappear over the rampart. He turned in midair, his claws ripping the fabric of her dress as she slipped through his fingers. Flames erupted on either side of him as he howled with rage, taking to the air and following them across the desert.

The chocobo raced across the sand, carrying a stunned Terra Branford who had landed badly and was facing the wrong direction on her feathered steed. She practically collapsed when she landed on the oversized bird, her arms wrapped around its backside with her belly pressed against its back. It took everything she had to hold onto the chocobo as they sped off across the desert.

Edgar looked back at her, and noticed that she was backwards on her chocobo. Locke was too busy celebrating their escape to notice her awkward position, his victory cry carrying on the wind.

"I wouldn't celebrate just yet if I were you," said Edgar.

"Huh?" Locke blinked and looked at him in confusion. He turned his head, following Edgar's gaze as he spied a glowing ball on the horizon. "Oh shit!" He tugged on the reigns, causing the bird to rear up and open its beak, releasing a startled cry as its rider kicked its side and ordered it to speed up.

Terra looked up and saw Kefka gliding over the sand, looking very much like a predatory bird with his cloak and feathers rippling on the wind. He reached towards her, his claws inches from her face. Terra screamed, a fireball forming in the palm of her hand. There was a split second during which Edgar and Locke looked back and saw her throw the fireball at him, the flaming mass striking him in the chest and exploding on contact.

Kefka hit the ground, rolling over and over in the sand. His cloak tangled around his body, with feathers flying in every direction. For a moment he was still, lying in a heap as his mind tried to comprehend what just happened. Had he been shot by something? Perhaps a stray fire beam from one of the armored soldiers. Friendly fire. Accidents happen. God knows he used that excuse many times when he started having "accidents" during his training sessions. But no, that wasn't possible. It couldn't be because there was a deep, burning pain in his chest. Which meant that he had been struck by something in front of him.

He peeked out from under his cloak. "Terra?" Nothing. She would not respond to him anymore. He then disappeared beneath the yellow and red fabric, cursing and muttering as he untangled himself from the mass of brightly colored material.

His fingers found the burn holes in his shirt, the pale tips brushing against the charred tassels hanging from the ruff around his neck. He stared at the beads and scorched feathers lying in the sand, then looked up at Terra's retreating form as the chocobo she was riding disappeared over the top of a sand dune.

He was in shock, watching her vanish over the horizon. His precious pet, his obedient toy. Since when did she attack her master? His fist struck the ground, and he screamed, the sound carrying across the desert as Terra and her companions continued their mad dash across the desert.

Locke was grinning as he looked back at her. He raised a hand and pushed his bandana up, his sandy hair blowing in the wind. "Did you see that? She's really something, isn't she?" He turned to Edgar and burst out laughing when he saw the look on face. "What's wrong? You look like you pissed yourself, Edgar!"

"She used magic!" Edgar exclaimed. "Magic! M-a-g-i-c. Stop laughing!"

"I'm sorry. It's just that the last time I saw you with that look on your face was when you accidentally sat on a sand ray." Locke turned in his seat, looking back at Terra who was still facing the wrong way on her chocobo. "Hey, are you alright? You seem distracted by something."

Her eyes were fixated on the horizon, staring at the spot where, only moments ago, Kefka had tried to snatch her off the back of her chocobo. She felt sick to her stomach, her heart pounding against her ribs as she realized how close she came to being captured by that garishly painted monster.

"Terra!"

The young woman started, gasping as she turned and looked back at him.

"Terra, are you alright?" Locke was concerned. He steered his chocobo to the left so he could ride beside her.

"That was Kefka," she whispered, her gaze drifting towards the horizon. She thought she could still hear him, his voice drifting on the wind as he continued to scream and curse.

"You son of a submariner!" Kefka screeched, driving his fist into the sand. He was still for several seconds, breathing heavily as he tried to come to terms with what had happened. She attacked him, his precious toy fought back, trying to escape. But why? How could she do this to him? Was she broken? A broken toy that no longer knew how to obey its master. But she couldn't. She wouldn't do that to him.

Kefka looked over his shoulder, the sound of footsteps drawing his attention as two of his soldiers ran towards him. That was a mistake, because the first person to reach him was struck with a bolt of lightning. The second soldier barely had time to react before Kefka hurled a ball of fire at him, his body reduced to ash in a matter of minutes from the strength of the fire spell.

He rose from the sands, his cloak billowing out behind him on the wind. The castle had vanished into the desert, leaving behind a sunken pit where the castle once stood. He was alone, the remainder of his troops getting pulled into the pit like quicksand. Someone was going to pay for this. Someone was going to suffer for breaking his favorite toy.

"Celes," he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.

He convinced himself that this was her fault. He saw her tears, he heard her whispering in the dark as she cursed the empire and promised to set Terra free. His thoughts shifted towards South Figaro as he turned to face the moon. Emperor Gestahl had given them orders to kill her, to hang her for treason. He imagined seeing her lips turn blue, her eyes bulging until they were ready to pop right out of their sockets. It was a lovely thought, one that made him laugh like a mad hyena.

The troops were already stationed in South Figaro. The clock was ticking, the hour was late. Celes was on her way to South Figaro, leaving Narshe to join her fellow soldiers in the hostile takeover of yet another city. She didn't know that the soldiers were going to arrest her when she arrived. And who better to welcome her than Kefka?

\---------------

Kefka traveled alone to South Figaro, using any monsters that were unfortunate enough to cross his path as target practice. He reached the city in a matter of days, and was pleased when he saw that the city had already been occupied.

The troops saluted him as he walked into town. His painted lips twisted into a fiendish grin when he saw the fear and surprise on the faces of those he meet. The soldiers weren't expecting him, and neither was she, as they lead her into the center of town, her hands bound behind her back. She looked up when she heard him laugh, and was dealt a swift blow to the back of the head.

She felt the cobblestone against her cheek, cold stone mingling with warm blood as her vision blurred, and felt a trickle of warm fluid dripping down the side of her face. Celes groaned, her hair falling forward into her face as she rolled over onto her side. There he was, his dark figure a silhouette against the bright, blue sky. He was a curse, a dark rainbow of misfortune and death, and all she had done was try to help her friend, to support her even when Terra wasn't aware of her presence.

She should have known better than to let her guard down around Kefka, or to think he'd leave them in peace while she spoke with Terra. She knew the man was crazy, but she didn't think he had the intelligence to plan and scheme the way he did. His mind had been twisted and warped from those experiments, and yet his cunning intellect remained, his senses sharpened, like a lion stalking its prey. He was everything Gestahl wanted him to be, laughing hysterically as he danced in a circle, kicking up his heels and striking her in the side with his boot.

Another blow, this one making contact with her face. His fingers fisted her hair, ripping it from her scalp as he lifted her off the ground and threw her against the side of a building. She was nearly unconscious when a sudden image flashed before her eyes, and she recalled a moment where Dr. Cid warned her not to underestimate Kefka. Leo said the same thing, telling her to keep her distance and avoid making contact with him whenever possible. Celes had seen what he was capable of. She knew he was capable of causing widespread death and destruction, but that's all she thought he was capable of.

This man spent four months in a mental facility. He was barely able to remember what he did last week, he was diagnosed with everything from generalized anxiety disorder to extreme psychosis. Who in their right mind would listen to a word he said? And how was it that he could he function well enough to think up such grand schemes? Celes knew that his plans went beyond the search for Terra, that he was already making plans to poison every last man, woman and child in Doma. It was one of the reasons she'd spoken against him. And now here she was, lying in the street as Kefka ordered the soldiers to beat her to within an inch of her life.

She braced herself for the attack, and felt the soldier's boot make contact with her ribs. But she wouldn't scream. She refused to cry or beg for mercy. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her writhing in torment, not even when a direct blow to her abdomen caused her to lurch forward and vomit blood onto the sidewalk.

"I'd kill you myself, Celes. But then it would be over much too soon. It's more fun to savor the moment, to cherish each and every dying breath until you beg me to put you out of your misery."

She opened her eyes when she heard his voice, and saw the mad jester standing over her, a sadistic grin on his painted face. He was clearly enjoying himself, watching the blood trickling past her lips and pooling on the ground beneath her. His face was the last thing she saw, his wicked laughter ringing in her ears as the world around her faded to black.

They dragged her unconscious body through the streets, making sure they hit every rock and curb along the way. Chains clanked as they fastened the manacles to her wrists, keeping her hands suspended above her head. It was some time before she regained consciousness. She barely had the strength to lift her head as a voice whispered in the dark, trying to get her attention.

Celes opened her eyes, a feeble moan escaping her lips, and was greeted with the sight of a young man wearing worn, faded blue clothing.

"Name's Locke," he said, his fingers working to remove the chains that bound her to the wall. "Just stay calm and don't make a sound. I'm going to help you escape."


	37. Unlikely Bond

"Leave me," she murmured, turning away from his gaze. The chains rattled, and Celes shifted slightly, lifting her weight off her injured leg. Something was broken. She was sure of it. But her wrists were suspended above her head, held in place with chains binding them to the wall, which meant that it was impossible for her to use her healing magic.

Locke was confused. He reinserted the hairpin, jiggling the lock in a desperate attempt to set her free, and received a stern glare from the former General, her head whipping around as she looked up at him. Her eyes narrowed and she kicked him in the side, sending him sprawling on the floor.

She cried out in pain, cursing as she fell forward onto her injured leg. "Don't touch me!" she spat, still glaring at him from across the room.

"What?" He sat up slowly, a thin trickle of blood oozing from his bottom lip. "You're joking!"

"No, I'm not." A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "I'd rather face my execution with pride then be led out of here by some low life theif."

"I'm not a thief! I'm a treasure hunter!"

Celes curled her lip in disgust, looking at his ragged clothes and faded bandana. "Then why do you look like you just crawled out of the back alley of Zozo?"

Locke sighed and rolled his eyes. "Is everyone in the empire completely out of their mind?" He returned to her side, moving quickly as he worked to remove her bindings. He wanted to get out of here before the guards made their rounds, or before this woman kicked his teeth in. "I'll get you out of here. I promise."

The chains slipped off her wrists, and she collapsed against his chest, gasping as his arms snaked around her waist. A second passed between them before she pulled away, stumbling to the side and falling to the floor.

Locke froze, his eyes darting towards the door. He held his breath, his heart pounding against his ribs. If the guards heard that they were as good as dead. And if Kefka was lurking in the vicinity, they'd be dead ten times over.

He'd seen the mad jester wandering the halls at night, pacing back and forth while brushing the hair on that doll of his. A doll which bore an uncanny resemblance to girl they rescued two weeks ago. The sight was unnerving, watching him walk the halls with that doll held against his chest, stooped over and mumbling to himself like some crazy old loon.

He looked back at Celes, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw her conjure a shimmering orb of light in her right hand. "Good grief, not another one!" he exclaimed. "How is that everyone knows how to use magic? I mean, I know they've got some sort of training program over there, but I didn't think - "

"Shut it!" she snapped, cutting him off in mid-sentence. "I need to concentrate."

Light poured from her fingertips, revealing a bruise on the side of her face. There was dried blood on her bottom lip, her clothing stained with patches of scarlet fluid. And yet she was still alive and kicking, acting like she hadn't been beaten to within an inch of her life and dragged through the streets of South Figaro.

He was impressed with her resiliency. This former General of the Imperial army was more than just a pretty face. She was strong, one of the finest soldiers to ever graduate from the academy of magical arts. And yet she was willing to throw it all away for the sake of her pride.

Locke turned around when he heard the sound of footsteps in the distance. He didn't want to stick around long enough to see who it was, and grabbed Celes by the hand before she had time to finish casting her spell.

"Come on! The guards are coming. We have to get out of here."

He practically ran with her out into the hallway, the young woman tripping as she tried to keep up with him. When he saw her struggling, he positioned her arm around his neck and shoulder, supporting her with his arm around her waist as they all but ran from the building. It wasn't until they made it downstairs that she had time to stop and finish the spell she started.

"You son of a bitch!" she snarled, wincing as she conjured a second orb of light. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You practically flung me over your shoulder like a cave man before running out of there."

Locke held up his hands, taking a step back as he attempted to distance himself from the irate spell caster. "Look, lady, I'm sorry for interrupting what I'm sure was an otherwise pleasant day, but there's no way I'm leaving you to die in a place like this."

The former General shot him a dirty look before turning her attention to orb in her hand. "Who are you anyway?" she asked, watching as the light grew stronger and formed into a pulsating mass of energy. She held her hand over her leg, letting the light penetrate her skin as it began healing her injuries. "And why do you care what happens to me?"

Locke rubbed the back of his head, his eyes traveling over the torches that lined the walls. "Sheesh," he muttered. "What have I gotten myself into?" He looked back at her and said, "The name's Locke. Although you probably would have remembered that if you weren't so out of it when I found you."

"I came around quickly enough," she said, frowning as she followed him down the hall and out into the fresh air.

She recoiled as the sunlight reached her eyes, and raised a hand to shield herself from the glare of the sun. Locke glanced sideways up the street, looking this way and that before running into the trees that lined the edge of the city. When he looked back, Celes was still lingering in the doorway. He waved to her, motioning for her to come forward.

Celes hesitated before moving towards him. She knew that going with him meant that she could never come back, that she was now a tratior, an outcast who had turned against her country and all it stood for. But there was no time to think about that now. She'd made her choice, and was it time to go, leaving it all behind as she stepped into the woods and began her new life with the Returners.

\------------------

Needless to say, Kefka was not pleased when word got out that Celes had managed to escape. The resulting tantrum was enough to cause the mansion he was staying in to go up in flames, with Imperial soldiers screaming and running for their lives as they fled the burning building.

One of the soldiers barely managed to make it out the door when he was snatched by the clownish mage. Kefka sunk his nails into the man's throat, his lips curling in a grotesque snarl as he watched the unfortunate soldier twisting and writhing. His fellow soldiers watched in horror as Kefka lifted him off the ground, his painted features illuminated by the flickering firelight.

"Find her," Kefka hissed, his eyes never leaving the soldier's face. There was a brief pause, the flames rising towards the heavens as glowing embers danced on the wind. A muscle twitched over his left eye, his lips curled as a sadistic grin spread from ear to ear, and suddenly he was laughing. Laughing and screaming and cursing everything in existence.

Once it started he couldn't stop. The soldier was dying, with warm rivulets of blood streaming down his neck as Kefka's claws dug into his flesh. Images of his life flashed before his eyes, with nothing but Kefka's cruel, harsh laughter ringing in his ears. There was a moment, one final glance at the world around him as his body hit the ground. He could see the mad jester standing over him, still cackling and dancing amid the flames. It was the last thing he saw before blackness consumed him, his senses failing as Kefka's laughter echoed in the stillness of the warm summer air.

Hours passed before the flames died down, the citizens doing all they could to prevent the fire from spreading throughout city. In the end a total of fourteen buildings were lost before the crazed magician settled down, and even then the fires were still burning in his blood. His body was surrounded by undulating waves of heat, his skin was hot to the touch, and wherever he went people scattered like flies, hoping to avoid contact with the irritated jester.

The innkeeper ducked and hid behind the counter when he saw Kefka coming down the hall. "Sir," he said in a feeble voice. "Mr. Palazzo, I have something for you."

Kefka stopped, glaring over his shoulder at the innkeeper. He was just about to set the man on fire when a trembling hand reached out from behind the counter.

"A letter arrived, sir. From the Emperor." The innkeeper held out the envelope, hoping against hope that he wouldn't get burned alive for speaking to the Emperor's precious pet.

Kefka snatched the envelope out of his hand. Bits of paper went flying as he tore it open and started reading. A smile slowly crept across his painted face. This was what he'd been waiting for. A letter from Gesthal stating that he was to leave for Doma first thing in the morning. He threw his head back and laughed, then reached over the counter and positioned his hand in front of the innkeeper's face. The man behind the counter screamed, the noise lingering in the air as first his clothing then his body was reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash.

Kefka retreated to a room in the back of the inn, his heart still beating frantically against his ribs. Setting fire to the mansion and watching it burn to the ground wasn't enough. It never was. He still needed a release, some form of death and destruction to calm his nerves. That idiot doctor back at the palace didn't understand. He would have prescribed more useless medication, more drugs, more pills, as if any of that helped ease the tremors in his hands. It was a complete and utter waste of time, which were his exact words the last time Dr. Cid tried giving him something for the neurological damage that resulted from the experiments he'd undergone.

It was always like this, his heart racing as he reached for the vase and hurled it against the wall. The tremors wouldn't subside until he found a way to rid himself of the excessive amount of magic and hatred flowing through his viens. Anger and hatred and absolute disgust. Disgust because he hated her, because Celes always had to be little miss perfect.

"That's it, though," he whispered, his fingers closing around a glass he snatched off the counter. "That's the problem. There's nothing wrong with her. She's too good. And right now all that purity and goodness is cavorting through the fields with that scum from the Returners."

Kefka hated being in her presence. Whenever he was near her it felt as though those pure, perfect little walls were closing in on him. It was like being suffocated beneath a reminder that he would never be free from this nightmarish affliction. And all the while he had to look at her, a fine creation, just as beautiful and unique as the snowflakes she crafted with her own two hands.

He filled the glass with water, then stood in front of the fireplace and concentrated on the energy pooling in his hands. His magic was imbalanced due to the stress and upset caused by losing Celes. He could tell because of the intense heat radiating from his skin, as well as the red splotches on his hands and fingers that were visible when he removed his makeup. A fireball began to form in his left hand, and when it was fully formed he tossed it in the fireplace, igniting the logs that had been stacked against the cold, stone wall.

His eyes followed the movement of the dancing flames, his hand trembling as he brought the glass to his lips and took a sip of water. He thought he could hear her voice, the sound haunting him even though she was probably a hundred miles away. Every now and then the burning firewood would crackle and pop. There, a tiny spark, one that contained the image of her face, her blond hair blowing in the wind.

Kefka was still staring into the fireplace when the glass he was holding started to crack. It was her. It was always her. The frost on the window, the icicles clinging to the branches. How dare she flaunt her abilities, mocking his imperfections everywhere she went. A person like that shouldn't be allowed to live. She shouldn't live or move or breathe a single breath or...

"Eeyaaaahh!"

He clenched his fists, screaming as the glass shattered in his hand. Blood trickled past his wrist, scarlet drops upon the hardwood floor. He didn't even know, didn't feel when the shards pierced his skin. Pain was just a distant memory, insignificant when compared to everything he'd gone through during the last thirteen years.

A chuckle, low in his throat as he doubled over, taking a step forward then pausing when another fit of laughter started building in his chest. Let her run. Let her seek shelter with the Returners. She could protest the war all she wanted. It wouldn't stop him from murdering everyone in Doma. And when he was done with them he was coming for her.

\-------------

The ground crumbled beneath his feet as he neared the ledge. Pieces of rock mixed with a generous portion of soil fell into the water, forming ripples that spread across the surface. Locke knelt beside the edge of the spring, dipped his bandana in the water, then used it to wash the sweat and grime off his face. Celes was standing beside him, her arms folded over her chest.

"Why do you wear that filthy thing?" she asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"It's not filthy. It's well seasoned." The earth shook beneath his feet, and he looked up at the ceiling. "This place feels like it's going to collapse. And is it just me, or does it feel like something is burrowing through the ground?"

Celes rolled her eyes. "Well seasoned," she muttered. She turned on heel and marched towards the mouth of the cave.

"Hey, wait up!" Locke stood up and ran towards her. He only managed a few steps before the tremors increased in strength, causing him to stumble and almost fall flat on his face as the ground rocked and split open at his feet.

Celes looked back when she heard him scream, and saw the wall collapse as large machine burrowed through layers of rock and soil. She recognized the machine as one she'd seen in the empire. This mechanical beast, equiped with steel claws and drill for boring through solid rock was a type of tunnel armor. They'd been using it in Narshe to reach the chamber with the frozen Esper. But what was it doing down here in the cave of Figaro?

"Get back!" Celes shouted, drawing her sword and running forward. There was a blinding flash, and Locke fell backwards as he heard her scream. Lightning crackled in the air around them, ricocheting off the walls and splitting boulders in two. For a moment he thought they were going to be fried to a crisp. But as he watched the lighting began to change direction, forming one long strand that snaked its way through the air where it was absorbed by Celes' sword.

The former General smirked. "And to think you were worried about protecting me."

Locke's jaw dropped. "What did you just do?"

"It's called Runic. It let's me absorb magic and use it as fuel to cast spells." She braced herself for the next attack as the tunnel armor clicked and whirred, moving back and preparing to launch another attack. "Locke, it's coming right at you!"

The tunnel armor roared to life, charging full speed ahead while firing a barrage of lasers. He was able to doge most of the supercharged rays of light, thanks in part to the experience he received from years of living and training on the outskirts of Zozo. However there were those that found their mark, burning through the worn fabric of his jacket as a stray beam grazed his shoulder.

Several of the laser beams struck the ground, sending up clouds of dirt and debris as he ran to escape the burning onslaught, while another managed to strike him in the leg as he turned and leapt up onto the back of the machine. Flames spewed from the mouth of the mechanical beast as it went in overdrive, ramming the wall as it attempted to shake him off. Locke clung to the machine for dear life, watching as the sea of flames parted before the former General.

Celes rasied her sword, causing the smoke and flames to form a spiral that illuminated the air above her. These twisting strands of smoke and fire met at the tip of her sword where they were absorbed into the polished blade.

"Here!" She threw her sword to Locke. "Finish it!"

Locke acted without hesitation, gripping the blade with both hands and driving it into the space between the metal plating and the belt the moved the wheels. The blade stuck in the gears, jamming the machine as it tried to move forward. Sparks flew, the gears shifting and rotating to as the tunnel armor jerked forward, moved back an inch, then slammed into the wall.

Black smoke started pouring from the back of the machine, letting him know that it was time to leave. He leapt onto the ground and ran after Celes, fleeing into the moonlight as they escaped the cave. Within seconds the ground began to shake, and an explosion rocked the earth as the machine short circuited and caught on fire.

"I thought you said you were going to protect me," said Celes, her hands on her hips as she waited for Locke to join her outside the cave. "And here I am, saving your sorry hide from one of the empire's fire spewing behemoths."

Locke looked at her and groaned. She smiled at him, knowing that he would have been flattened or burnt to a crisp if he tried battling that monstrosity on his own.

"You are going to get me killed faster than that thing ever will." Locke coughed and doubled over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath after running the last quarter of a mile uphill through the cave. Celes, on the other hand, wasn't even winded. "What are you? Some kind of super woman?"

"I'm an artificially enhanced Rune Knight," she said with an air of importance. "I'm also a former General, and a top ranking member of the Imperial army."

"Yeah? So why'd you leave then?"

Her smile quickly faded. "Kefka."

"That's a good enough explanation for me." Locke stood up, brushing the dirt off his pants. "I've seen enough of that loony tunes zombie to last a life time." He adjusted his bandana, then turned and looked at the sky.

A cold wind was blowing over the open fields between them and Figaro, sending bruised and blackened clouds skirting across the moon. Every now and then the wind would pick up, revealing a silver sphere nestled between the clouds. The air was crisp and clean, the grass damp beneath his the soles of his shoes. It looked as though they'd just missed getting caught in a rainstorm.

Locke swore under his breath, cursing his luck as he tried to locate the north star between the gaps in the clouds. "We came out there," he said, turning and pointing to the cave. "That's north. The mountains go north and Figaro is in the east. So we need to follow the mountains until we reach Narshe. If we're lucky, we might reach it in five to six days. Four if we move with a purpose. Hey, is something wrong?"

Celes had a faraway look in her eyes, watching as the moon peeked out from behind the clouds. She couldn't help wondering where Terra was and if she was alright. She hadn't been informed of the altercation that took place at Figaro castle, and to the best of her knowledge Terra was still lost somewhere.

"Celes? That is your name, isn't it?" Locke reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. He later regretted his decision when she spun around, seized him by the wrist and pinned his arm behind his back. "Dammit, Celes! Will you drop the General act already? My arm feels like it's going to rip right out of its socket!"

She hesitated before letting him go, frowning as he fell forward and collapsed onto his knees. "Keep your hands to yourself, and then you won't have to worry about losing limbs. Or anything else I feel the need to forcefully remove from your anatomy."

Locke winced when he heard her say said that. As strong as she was, Celes could probably decapitate anyone who looked at her funny. Though he had a feeling she wasn't talking about slicing off people's heads. She would probably aim for something lower.

He slowly got to his feet, muttering curses as he removed his vest to examine the wound. The wound wasn't as serious as he first thought. It was more of a burn that had been made worse by Celes when grabbed him and twisted his arm. He then looked up from examining his wound and started when he saw Celes with another glowing orb in her right hand.

"Do you want me to heal that for you?" she asked, sounding fairly annoyed. It was like everything pissed her off, and no matter what he did nothing helped improve her mood.

"No. It's fine, thanks." Locke dabbed at the corner of the wound with his handkerchief. "Believe me, I've had much worse."

Celes wrinkled her nose in disgust when the saw the layer of dirt and grime that covered the torn strip of fabric. Was everything he owned covered in filth? He disgusted her to no end, but unlike Kefka Celes had enough class not to make a stink over it.

She absorbed the ball of energy into her palm, sighed, and glanced up at the clouds. "We should go. It looks like it could rain again any second now. And from the looks of it, it would probably be the first bath you've had in weeks." She then turned on heel and began following the mountains north.

"Hey, wait up!" Locke called after her. He stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket, then ran after her while attempting to put his vest on. "Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be a long journey?"

"Quit your whining," she snapped at him. "It's not like I volunteered to come along with you."

Yes, this was going to be a very long journey indeed.


	38. Posioned Dreams

While Locke and Celes journeyed north towards Narshe, Kefka began traveling east, towards the distant land of Doma. There had been several skirmishes with the ancient city, culminating in the third military campaign. It wouldn't be long until the empire's reign extended as far east as Mobliz, then on to Thamasa, until they had succeeded in conquering the globe. The only problem was that the journey would be long and involved spending a lot of time at sea.

Kefka learned several years ago that he didn't do well at sea, nor did he do well when confined to a small room for an extended period of time. He was more susceptible to nightmares and hallucinations when left to his own devices. And with nothing to distract him from the plethora of voices whispering, muttering and holding conversations in the back of his mind, it wouldn't be long until he slipped deeper into the madness that shattered his sanity.

At first he was quiet, spending much of his time sitting on the side of the bed with a blanket draped over his shoulders. In his hands he held a doll, his favorite doll that he carried with him wherever he went, and was constantly rocking back and forth while stroking the doll's hair. This doll was the closest he could get to the real thing, its green curls mirroring her own, with delicate pink ribbons and lace adorning its ruby red clothing.

_'Thou shalt have no other god than me. And thou shalt have no other goddess.'_

He shivered and pulled the blanket tight around his chest, glancing out the window as the wind and waves battered the side of the ship. And then he saw it, a hint of movement, lingering on the corner of his peripheral vision. Kefka looked back at the doll, his eyes wide and staring. It didn't just move, did it? No, of course not. And yet it did. He was sure of it. It was trying to speak to him.

He gazed into its cold, lifeless eyes, waiting for it to speak. He didn't realize his hands were shaking.

"Terra. Say something." He shook the doll, trying to force it to respond. "Speak to me. Tell me where you've gone."

A moment passed in silence, with images forming on the surface of the doll's eyes. They were like pictures reflected on a pane of glass, emerging from the depths of Kefka's broken mind, showing him everything his heart desired. He saw Terra in chains, her wrists bound, kneeling before him. He saw General Leo's headless corpse rotting in the sun. And there in the middle of it all was Celes, strung up from the tallest building with a rope around her neck.

Kefka grinned, watching her body sway in the wind.

' _Little miss perfect is perfectly dead, with Terra in chains, off with Leo's head.'_

He saw himself laughing, spinning in circles and dancing in the street. The buildings were crumbling, the clouds were on fire with a thousand embers, and everywhere he looked the world was in ruins. This world was his. He could feel it, as the energies pooled in the center of the earth, coursing through his veins and flowing from his fingertips.

He sunk his claws into the doll's body, squeezing it as a sudden fit of laughter poured from his lips. When he closed his eyes he could see Terra kneeling in the dirt, her face stained with the blood of her fallen friends. She looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears. He didn't know why she was crying, nor did he care. He laughed as his nails dug into her cheek, squeezing her pretty little face and lifting her chin, forcing her to look at him.

Kefka wanted her to look at him. He needed her devotion, he wanted her bow before him and worship him like a god. These maggots weren't worthy of his affection. There was only one who had earned the right to stand beside him, and soon she would be back where she belonged.

These images repeated for the next several days, playing through his mind like a broken record. He dreamt of her during the brief moments he was able to sleep, screaming and twitching as he clutched the doll against his chest. He cold feel her hands, so cold upon his burning flesh, and he smiled as her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

She was his. She was lying to herself if she thought otherwise. He would find her. It didn't matter how far as she ran, or how long he had to chase her. There was no escape.

\----------

Heads turned as he marched across the sand. The soldiers ducked and ran when they saw him coming, while others nearly wet themselves from fright. One soldier went running past Leo's tent as the General walked outside. The dark skinned man held out his arm, preventing the soldier from fleeing, his eyes on Kefka as he entered the campsite.

The mage had his doll tucked under his arm, his cloak billowing out behind him on the wind. It wasn't enough to hold the doll, he had to feel it close to his body. And so he developed the habit of carrying it with him wherever he went, trying in vain to replicate the feeling of having Terra next to him.

"Stay calm, soldier," said Leo, glancing at the young man who was positively quivering with fear. "He won't hurt you. Not while I'm here." He then turned his attention to Kefka, his eyebrows rising towards his hairline as he spied the doll under his arm. "Kefka, I see that you've arrived," he began awkwardly, his gaze lingering on the Terra Branford doll. "How was the trip from South Figaro?"

"Shove it, Leo," Kefka snarled. "I'm in no mood to deal with your crap this morning." He continued on his way, looking for a nice, comfortable tent to stay in. He wasn't going to bother setting up his own. Why should he? It was easier to throw the occupants out on their ass. Or burn them.

"Gather round, men," said Leo, motioning for them to come closer. "I'd like to have a word with you."

The soldiers hesitated before gathering in the center of the campsite. Most of them were afraid to leave the safety of their tents, and took quite a bit of coaxing before they were willing to cross paths with Kefka.

"Kefka, are you listening?"

"Yes, yes, I know," said Kefka, ignoring the General as he looked inside one of the tents.

Leo signed heavily, knowing full well that Kefka wasn't paying attention to anything he was saying. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, praying for the strength and patience to deal with this man, then turned to the soldiers and began briefing them on the current situation.

"My good men, yesterday's attempt to storm the castle ended in failure. But there is no need to worry, for they are a nation that lacks technology, as well modern day weapons and machines, thus rendering them vulnerable to our attacks. They have chosen to play the waiting game, and several of our men are currently being held prisoner within the castle. It is imperative that we see to their release, and I ask that you not make any decisions that could endanger your life or the lives of your fellow soldiers."

He was interrupted by a harsh scream, followed by the sound of laughter coming from one of the tents.

"Kefka!" Leo turned around, and saw one of his men fleeing the tent with the seat of his pants on fire.

The soldier sprinted across the sand, landing with a splash in the nearby river. The canvas moved, and Kefka's feathered head poked out of the tent.

"Yes? You were saying?" Kefka cocked his head to the side, looking very much like a curious bird watching a crab scuttle across the sand.

Leo was about to speak when a soldier came forward.

"General Leo, sir. How can we expect to win if we stay put and play along with their game? Surely their resources will outlast our meager supplies, sir."

The General held up a hand to silence him. "No, we must have patience in order to defeat them. If we act now there will be too many casualties. And I'd prefer not send my men to their death when there are better options for winning this fight." He paused, taking a moment to consider the young man. "You're from Maranda, are you not?"

The soldier blinked, looking at him with confusion. "Yes, sir. I am."

"And do you have family? A wife perhaps? Or children?"

"Yes, sir." The soldier nodded. "A wife and twin boys. But why do you ask, sir?"

Leo hung his head, his expression grim. "You would have me go there and deliver word of your passing to your family? How could I look them in the eye and tell them their father is dead? What would I say? How would your wife feel as I handed her your sword? These are things you should consider, that everyone here needs to think about. Because your life has value and meaning, and you shouldn't be quick to throw it away in battle."

Kefka was listening as Leo gave his speech about having patience and consideration for others. It was enough to make him feel as though he'd swallowed a jug of spoiled milk, with each and every word souring in his stomach. If he had his way the inhabitants of Doma would be dead by sunset, just like good King Stewart who passed his final hours screaming and writhing in agony.

"We can outlast our enemy," Leo continued, his hands behind his back as he walked past the soldiers. "Fresh supplies can be sent from South Figaro now the the city has fallen under our command. The key to winning this battle is patience. We mustn't be hasty or act without consideration for others." He looked over his shoulder at Kefka. "Did you hear what I said, Kefka? I don't want you carving a path of destruction though the city."

Kefka raised an eyebrow. He appeared to consider him for a moment, then walked out of the tent with a sadistic grin on his face.

Leo stood his ground, his gaze unfaltering as the mage approached him. He knew better than to let his guard down when Kefka had that look in his eyes. It was a warning, a silent means of conveying his absolute hatred for someone. Which usually came before he started laughing and drove his dagger into someone's belly.

Kefka stopped in front of him, paused for half a second, and laughed. "I hate you. You know that, don't you? I'm surprised you didn't run away with Celes, seeing as how you seem to love peace and happiness and all that sickening garbage that makes me want to vomit."

"The events surrounding Celes' departure from the military are most unfortunate, Kefka. I could not have predicted, nor did I expect to see such behavior from one of our top Generals." He placed a hand on his chest. "But I shall not follow the path she has chosen. I am here to serve my country. I do what I believe is right in order to spare these soldiers and their families the tragedy of losing someone close to them."

The mage drew himself up to his full height, his eyes narrowed as he glared at the General. "Then I think you'll understand when I say that we both have our preferred methods for dealing with the situation. And excuse me if I happen to do what I believe is right to solve this problem sometime before Christmas, Leo."

"Not while I'm here, Kefka," Leo stated calmly.

Kefka took a step back, still grinning like a cat that ate the canary. His twisted mind was already working through the details, the gears turning as another hideously depraved scheme formed in the depths of his mind. He retreated to his tent amid whispers and murmurs, the frightened soldiers questioning their safety now that Kefka had arrived. Leo assured them that he had the situation under control, but it did little to ease their minds as Kefka set fire to the occupant's belongings and tossed them out of the tent.

\--------------

Night had fallen over the campsite, the moonlight bathing the desert in a pale glow that transformed the sands into a molten bed of shining silver. Lights could be seen in the distance, winking and flickering on the surface of the water. Every now and then a shadow would pass in front of the pale light; a lone soldier making his rounds, oblivious to the fact that his life would soon be coming to an end.

Kefka was wide awake, giggling and muttering to himself in the darkness of his tent. He collapsed onto his back, his doll abandoned at the foot of the cot as he stared at the ceiling. It was starting to come back to him, his memories of the time he spent in Figaro during the reign of King Stewart. He could see the images playing out on the ceiling, the voices and memories of days gone by swarming his thoughts like a squadron of bees.

This was his life, these were his memories. And yet he felt detached from the scenes he was witnessing, as though he were seeing something that did not belong to him. They were faded and fragmented, his consciousness sifting through the ashes that remained. He watched as poison flowed from his fingertips, filling the bottle of wine on the King's table. But this time he would need something more than a basic Poison spell to wipe out an entire city.

He reached beneath his pillowcase and removed a bottle he'd brought with him from Vector. It was a bottle of industrial strength poison, the strongest there was. It was so toxic that three drops on a person's skin was enough to kill someone within a matter of minutes.

Kefka grinned, giggling as he caressed the bottle of liquid death. Poison was such a lovely solution to the problem. It was like spreading a disease, an infection that caused them to writhe and scream, clawing at their flesh as they tried to rid themselves of some invisible demon.

The sound of footsteps drew him away from his thoughts, causing him to sit bolt upright in bed as the sound approached his tent. He stuffed the bottle in his pillowcase, then picked up his doll and moved towards the entrance of the tent. There were voices outside, one of them calling Leo's name as a pair of soldiers gathered outside the General's tent. It had been almost a week since he arrived at camp. Had something changed? Something that warranted this late night intrusion? Whatever it was must have been urgent, or else they wouldn't have seen fit to wake the General at half past two in the morning.

Leo appeared at the entrance of the tent, his blond mohawk sticking out at odd angles. He looked as though he'd fallen asleep without changing out of his clothes. Perhaps he was expecting Kefka to cause some sort of commotion in the middle of the night, and wanted to be dressed in case he had to stop the mad jester from going on a rampage. Nothing worse than being caught in your underwear with a mad clown on the loose, you know.

The soldiers stood at attention, with one of them extending his arm as he presented General Leo with an envelope.

"General Leo, sir. A carrier pigeon arrived from Emperor Gestahl."

Leo took the envelope and ran his thumb under the flap, breaking the royal seal. A soldier with an oil lamp moved closer, shining his light on the sheet of parchment so Leo could see to read the letter. The news he received wasn't good, and said that he was to return to Vector at once. He then looked up and caught sight of Kefka's painted face peeking out from between the hanging sheets of canvas.

"The Emperor has summoned me," he said slowly, taking the letter and placing it in the envelope. "I'm placing you in control while I work to remedy the situation in Vector. But before I go, I want to remind you to be on your best behavior while I'm gone, Kefka."

The mage laughed, prancing on the spot like a pony. He ignored the warning in Leo's voice, thinking only of the poison he'd hidden in his pillowcase. It was the perfect opportunity. And if Leo thought he wasn't going to pull some crazy stunt that would result in the death of over a thousand people then he was out of his mind.

"I mean it, Kefka. Nothing dirty. These are human beings with families and children. And there are men from our side imprisoned in the halls of Doma. You would do well to remember that."

His laughter died in an instant, an angry snarl curling the corners of his lips. "Idiots!" Kefka shouted, leaping three feet into the air. "If they're dumb enough to get captured then it's their own damn fault! They deserve whatever they get if they're that stupid."

The General held his gaze, taking one last look at the hideous clown before returning to his tent. In less than an hour he'd packed his supplies and begun the journey back Vector, leaving the citizens of Doma at the mercy of Kefka Palazzo. It was a decision he'd regret for the rest of his life, leaving him with a sense of guilt that weighed heavily on his mind.

\--------------

It was an hour before dawn when Kefka made his way downriver, following the shore as he approached the city of Doma. He was muttering to himself, talking rapidly as he clutched his doll against his chest. But this doll, this hollow reminder of everything he'd lost, offered little comfort as he climbed atop a rocky ledge and gazed at his reflection in the water.

He barely recognized himself anymore, his fingers brushing against the surface of the water, distorting the image as ripples spread in a circle across the water. Who was he? What was he? He questioned his humanity time and time again, searching, as Terra did, for an answer. But he was no closer to finding the answer than he was to figuring out the mystery of the sealed gate.

He held the doll tight, thinking that maybe, if he squeezed it hard enough, he could force some semblance of her voice past its lips. He ran his thumb over the doll's lips, his painted fingers trembling as they caressed the smooth porcelain. "Terra?" he whispered, his blood red nails scraping against the doll's cheek. "Terra, please."

His fingers curled, twisting in a fist, and he screamed, his agonized howl carrying across the barren desert. It felt like he'd been calling her name for a thousand years, screaming in frustration and despair, longing for the one thing he couldn't have. He could become a god, he could destroy the world and everything in it. But the one thing he couldn't do was bring her back.

He turned his attention towards the castle in the distance, then looked back at the water and decided that he needed to move further downriver. It was then that he caught sight of something silver in the corner of his eye. There was a brief flash, a metallic form glinting in the moonlight, followed by a young man with metal claws emerging from the shadows. Another man, older than the first, stood beside him, his fingers hooked under the collar of barking doberman.

There was something familiar about this young man. The features of his face, along with his short, blond hair and bright, blue eyes reminded him that perverted King. It took a moment for the pieces to fall in place, and then suddenly he laughed as he remembered the boys he'd seen Figaro castle.

This one, the thin, sickly child that Kefka had seen clinging to his brother's cloak, had grown into a powerful warrior. His muscular arms were lined with cords of sinew, his skin tanned from years of training in northern mountains. Anyone else would have been intimidated by his strong stature, but not Kefka. The mage took one look at him and made a face, looking very much like a child who'd just taken a bite out of something sour.

"What the hell do you want?" he barked, standing his ground against these formidable foes.

Needless to say, the young man wasn't pleased to see him. Both he and Edgar suspected the empire had been responsible their father's death, but nothing could be done about it due to the empire's overwhelming strength. It was one of the reasons why Sabin had left shortly after their father's passing, because he wanted to train and become strong enough to fight back against those who had murdered King Stewart. And now here he was, face to face with the man who murdered his father eleven years ago.

"Kefka. Well, I see you haven't changed. Might have added a few more feathers to your bonnet, but you're still just as crazy as you were back then."

The mage grinned, taking a moment to run his fingers over the delicate plumage he'd tucked into his hair. "Remember me fondly for my beauty, eh?" he said, striking a pose like a woman on the catwalk. "Well, I'm sorry but you're not my type."

Sabin blinked and looked him in confusion. "Huh? Not your type?"

Kefka giggled, raising a hand and conjuring a ball of fire. "You're not hot enough for me!" he shouted, hurling the fireball in Sabin's direction.

The monk leapt out of the way, landing on one knee and rolling across the sand. Shadow went on the offensive, charging at Kefka just as Sabin got to his feet and launched his first attack. But Kefka wasn't interested in continuing their battle. He raised a hand towards the sky and conjured a bolt of lightning, then thrust his hand towards the ground, causing the earth to explode in a blinding flash that catapulted him fifteen feet in the air. Once he was airborne, Kefka used Float to keep himself aloft as he flew towards the castle, leaving the bewildered monk and his companion in the dust.

Sabin coughed and spluttered, spitting out a mouthful of sand as the mage escaped into the clouds. "Kefka, wait!"

"Wait, he says." Kefka threw his head back and laughed. "Do I look like a waiter?"

He closed his eyes, imagining for a second that he was flying under his under power, his wings guiding him towards the castle in the distance. If he ever succeeded in finding her, he would have to figure out a way to force her to reveal her true self. It was one of the few things remembered from when she was a child. That moment never left his mind, and when he closed his eyes he could see her, crouched on the side of his bed, a mass of violet hair streaming down her back. He felt certain that she was one of them, that she was lingering on the threshold of discovering what she was, and when she crossed that line he wanted them to pass the point of no return together.

Kefka landed on the southern edge of the river, his lean form perched upon a rock like a hideous gargoyle. He scurried across the sand on all fours, then got to his feet and thrust his hand into his pocket. There was a brief pause, with Kefka cursing under his breath as he fumbled with the bottle.

This was the perfect solution to the problem. Leo had no right to complain, not when his actions mirriored those of the people who had ruined his mind with their experiments. And so he came forth, this angel painted with every color of the rainbow, to take what he'd been given and feed it to these foolish bastards who still believed in hope and dreams. This poison came from the empire itself, and was spread throughout the world by Kefka Palazzo. It was their doing, for they had created a monster, and if Leo objected to his methods then he was no better than Celes.

Kefka laughed as he watched the violet tendrils snaking across the surface of the water. The inhabitants of Doma would soon be nothing more than a memory, one that was easily forgotten as his thoughts drifted back to Terra. He tossed the empty bottle in the water, then turned around and started back to camp, pausing when he heard the sound of dogs barking in the distance.

A pale beam of light cut through the darkness, shining in the distance as a handful of Imperial soldiers made their way across the desert. Apparently his light show had drawn the attention of the soldiers back at camp, which was fine with him seeing as how they weren't the ones he needed to be concerned about. The men he'd encountered earlier were still hot on his trail. He could sense their presence, and a smile curled his lips as he looked over his shoulder and caught sight of Sabin running across the sand.

He conjured a fireball in his left hand, the doll tucked under his right arm, then spun around and hurled it in Sabin's direction. The attack was met with a barrage of throwing stars as the assassin went on the offensive, each one narrowly missing its target as Kefka laughed and took to the skies. He raised his hands above his head, and the doll slid from his grasp, landing in the sand next to the river. Lightning sparked in the palms of his hands as he unleashed another wave of electricity on the unfortunate duo.

Sabin and Shadow barely managed to avoid his vicious onslaught, the both of them diving behind a sand dune for cover. Kefka went into overdrive, laughing as lightning rained down from the skies. He was so engrossed in his actions that he failed to notice the doll lying in the sand at his feet. It wasn't until long after the battle ended that he realized the doll was missing, and that the final tie to Terra Branford had been severed.


	39. Lost

The sand shifted beneath his feet as Sabin crawled on his belly across the ground. He was flat against the earth, his vision clouded by smoke rising in the distance, and all he could hear was Kefka's horrendous laugh. The sound was enough to make the hair stand up on the back of his neck, and he cringed, listening as the high pitched cackle mingled with the sound of crackling flames. The dry vegetation had caught fire during the battle, forcing Sabin to tug the front of his shirt over his mouth and nose.

It wasn't long until another, less terrifying but still equally dangerous sound filled the air. And as he reached the top of the sand dunes, Sabin saw half a dozen Imperial soldiers and Vector hounds racing towards the battlefield. Now looked like a good time to retreat, but Shadow wasn't interested in leaving. He ordered Interceptor to attack, and the doberman charged uphill, sending up a spray of sand as he raced towards the crazed magician. The dog zigzagged through the smoke and ash, using it as cover as he ran towards him. He then took a flying leap and sunk his fangs into Kefka's leg.

Kefka screamed as he felt the dog's teeth pierce his flesh. He hadn't noticed the dog earlier when he first encountered them, and the last thing he expected was for Shadow to sick his pet on him. Without thinking Kefka seized the dog by the scruff of the neck, pulled him off and tossed the unfortunate canine into the air. Interceptor hit the ground and slid across the sand, just as Kefka collapsed onto onto one knee, his pants soaked with blood. He was about to conjure a second wave of fire when the soldiers arrived.

"Kill them!" Kefka shouted. "Kill them all! I want every last one of them dead!"

"Come on!" Sabin sprinted downhill, hoping that Shadow had enough sense to follow. "Let's get out of here before we have the entire regime at our throats."

Shadow acted without hesitation, scooping his dog off the ground and running with him across the sand. He made a mental note to repay Kefka for his actions, and if Interceptor was hurt he'd pay him back double.

The soldiers arrived within minutes of Sabin and Shadow fleeing the scene. One of them saw that Kefka was injured, and made the mistake of approaching him to see how serious the injuries were.

"What are you doing?" Kefka screeched, seizing the man by the collar. He shook the soldier like a ragdoll and screamed, "I said kill them! Are you too stupid to pay attention, or have you got sand in your ears?" The soldier slid from his grasp as the world suddenly turned upside down. He could feel bile rising in his throat, his insides churning and threatening to spill themselves on the ground. The pain in his injured leg was so intense that it was making him lightheaded, and within a matter of seconds he collapsed onto his side, his cheek pressed against the cool grains of sand.

He heard someone call for a medic, and watched Sabin and Shadow vanish from sight behind the dunes. A handful of soldiers managed to catch up with the fleeing Returners, but it wasn't enough to stop them from escaping. He could hear them shouting in the distance, the scene dissolving into chaos as steel clashed against steel. He knew something was wrong, something was missing, his bloody fingers combing the sands in search of the object he'd lost.

"Terra."

Her name fell from his lips in the form of a whisper, his hand closing around a thousand grains of sand. It felt as though he were falling away from her, his mind descending into panic, his heart pounding hard against his ribs.

"Terra, no. No!"

This couldn't be happening. They couldn't take her from him. He'd lost everything: his job, his sanity, his only friend, and now this, his one remaining link to the past disappearing beneath the endless sands of Doma.

They lifted him onto a stretcher, wincing as his shrill cries pierced the silence. He pressed the back of his head against the thick canvas, howling in agony, but not from the injury he'd sustained in battle. His world was crumbling, dissolving into nothing as he screamed her name. And all they saw was a tormented man locked in the throes of madness. It never occurred to them that he might actually care about her.

\---------------

He awoke slowly, the pale sunlight creeping between the hanging folds of canvas. It took a moment for him to realize where he was, his gaze wandering over the bottles of disinfectant, rolls of gauze and various medical supplies on the table in the corner. His arms closed around his torso as he curled in on himself, laying on his side in absolute darkness, with only a single sliver of light creeping across the floor.

A low groan escaped his lips. Why did she have to leave him? Why was she always running away? Even in his dreams he couldn't catch her. And now he felt sick, his stomach protesting the fact that he hadn't eaten in two days. His body ached, his head was throbbing with intense pain, and when he closed his eyes all he could see was her. She was so close, and yet so far away that he was beginning to feel as though it were hopeless.

He couldn't fill the emptiness that remained now that she had gone. His doll was the only comfort he had. Which is why he held onto it, keeping it close, keeping it safe, protecting her wherever he went. Now there was nothing, no faded remnant or gentle reminder of the person he so dearly missed. He couldn't even remember why he cared about her in the first place. Everything was slipping away, like water trickling through his fingers. It was impossible to grasp, and yet he continued to search the dark corners of his mind for the one thing that mattered most.

"Sir?"

A voice, temporarily distracting him from his thoughts. It sounded nervous, hesitating slightly, as though it were afraid to speak.

"Sir, are you alright? You haven't eaten in days. Are you not feeling well?"

Idiot. This was obviously some new recruit who hadn't been here long enough to witness the unique brand of insanity that was Kefka Palazzo. Most people knew better than to disturb him when he was like this. But not this poor fool. He was asking for trouble the moment he entered the tent.

" _Kefka, I'm so sorry you have to go through this."_

Another voice. Was it her?

_"I... I wish I could help."_

Yes, it was her. His memories slowly returned, and he felt her hand close around his. They were walking down a brightly lit hallway, the heels of his boots clicking against the linoleum. It produced a strange, hollow sound that could only be described as empty.

Kefka hated being in the hospital. He felt trapped here, isolated by these fools who feared what he was becoming. They were so frightened of him that he often woke up in a hospital bed that had been modified to keep him from escaping. It was like a steel crib for the mentally ill, with metal bars that rose several feet above his head. And when he screamed and thrashed against the bars, she was there, comforting him from afar.

They were sick. They were animals. Why else would the empire imprison them?

The image changed and he saw himself on his back, surrounded by steel bars, staring at the ceiling. She was there, a mask covering her mouth and nose with wires attached to her chest. They had robbed her of her dignity, leaving her with nothing but a strip of fabric covering her waist. There were tears in her eyes, her trembling hand reaching through the bars, trying to escape her own steel prison.

He wanted to save her, to protect her from this. But how could he save her when he couldn't save himself?

"Sir?"

The soldier's hand made contact with his shoulder, for one second, before he was electrocuted by a bolt of lightning. He fell to the floor, jerking and twitching, with foam dripping from his lips. Kefka ignored the soldier and rolled over onto his side, his back to the wall as the soilder seized up on the floor.

Voices came and went throughout the day, but he paid no attention to them. Sometimes they were frightened, screaming when they discovered their missing comrade on the floor beside the cot. Silence closed around him, and for one brief moment the world stood still. The citizens of Doma were dying, falling from the ramparts, collapsing in the hallways as their friends watched in horror. They would join them soon enough, blood trickling from their lips as the corrosive poison gnawed at their insides.

Some of them died screaming, while others went into seizures, their voices silenced as they choked on their own blood and vomit. Their screams carried across the river, reaching Kefka as he lay on his side in the medical tent. It pleased him to hear their panicked voices, their dying screams and broken sobs. But when their voices faded he was left with nothing. Nothing but the noise inside his head and shattered memories of her.

He was vaguely aware of the soft canvas beneath him, his eyes catching a glimpse of the ceiling before they rolled back in his head. Her name escaped his lips, no more than a hoarse whisper gliding across a sea of violet paint, and all at once the world dissolved around him.

\---------------

Claws pierced the ancient bark like knives, daggers seeking purchase as he stumbled, trying to find his footing in the dark. He hung his head, his colorful plumage wilted and bent at odd angles, trailing like a banner of defeat.

This was funny. This was ridiculously funny. All of it gone. No more. Poof. Bye bye.

He gripped the tree with both hands, threw his head back and laughed. Oh yes, this was hilarious. Why didn't he see it before? He wasn't going to find Terra sitting on his ass at camp. No, that will never do. If he wanted her, he was going to have to get up and find her on his own. He laughed at his ignorance. He realized his mistake. Yes, yes, he did! And now it was only a matter of time before he held her in his arms, caressing her mint green curls while he listened to the sweetness of her voice.

His laughter drifted through the trees, drawing the attention of the three men who were traveling south. Cyan turned around, his eyes wide, his fingers closing around the hilt of his sword.

"Sir Sabin, does thou think he followed us?"

Sabin tensed, his eyes searching the darkness for the source of the hideous laughter. "No," he whispered, his breath steaming in the cold air. "He couldn't have." He looked back at Shadow and nodded in his direction. "Shadow, can you go scout around and tell us what you see?"

The assassin acted without hesitation, vanishing into the shadows with Interceptor close behind. Sabin and Cyan took cover in the bushes that lined the path, waiting patiently for Shadow to return. They didn't know that the soldiers at the Imperial camp were in a panic over Kefka, who had wandered off and gotten lost in the Phantom Forest.

Kefka had had one of his psychotic episodes, and in a moment of desperation decided to go in search of Terra. Only he wasn't in his right mind. He was injured, and was only partially aware of himself and his surroundings. He limped and stumbled through the underbrush, laughing and mumbling incoherently, not knowing or caring where he was. His cloak caught on patch of brambles, ripping and snagging the delicate fabric as he took another step forward, tripped over an exposed root, and went sprawling on the cold, wet ground.

The smell of soil filled his nostrils. The air was damp and heavy with a layer of fog that wound its way through the trees. His body had gone numb from cold, his senses dulled as he stared into the darkness that surrounded him. He was unable to feel the pain in his leg as rivulets of blood began creeping down his ankle. If he was thinking, he would have tried healing himself before leaving the campsite. But right now all he cared about was finding Terra.

"Terra." Her name escaped him in the form of a feral growl. He latched onto the nearest tree root, his claws shredding the bark as he tore at the gnarled tree. "Where are you? Where are you? Terra, please... Where have you gone?"

After a minute or two of struggling to pull himself up the side of the hill, Kefka finally managed to reach the top, his belly sliding across a layer of decomposing leaves and mud. It was impossible for him to reach the top of the earthen mound by walking, due to the steep incline and the fact that everything was covered in leaves. The only way up was to use roots and branches like a rope, which required a tremendous amount of effort for someone who was injured, starving and delirious from lack of sleep.

He lay still for several minutes, his lean form hidden beneath a layer of fog. Beads of moisture gathered on the surface of the leaves, clinging to the tips before falling silently to the ground. Drop by drop they trickled down the leaves, spattering his face and causing his makeup to run. The drops increased in frequency until a steady rain fell from the sky, drenching the magician as he lay in a daze on the ground.

He knew that at some point he had to continue his search. He had to keep moving forward. But the strength had gone out of his limbs, his consciousness fading as rain poured cold into the gash on his leg. It felt like weeks had passed, the days blurring together until he started losing track of time.

The minutes continued to blur together as he drifted in and out of consciousness. After some time he became aware of a low snuffling sound, followed by something wet pressed against his forehead. A dog whined, taking a step back and barking to signal its master. There were footsteps, light and swift, gliding over wet blades of grass. The dog whimpered, looking from Kefka's prone form to the man in black that stood beside him.

There was no sign of movement as Shadow approached the injured mage. "What the hell is this?" he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Kefka. What kind of fool would drag themselves out into the middle of the forest when they were injured and bleeding? It was the trail of blood that enabled Interceptor to find him. And now that he was standing next to the fallen magician, Shadow realized how frail and sickly Kefka really was.

Shadow knelt beside the injured mage, approaching with caution and easing the hair out of his face. He reached beneath the red and yellow ruff, feeling for a pulse along the side of his neck. Kefka was still alive, but his pulse was faint. It was enough to fool Shadow into thinking he was dead. And after seeing him up close, with his battered feathers, thin arms, and blood soaked clothing, Shadow couldn't help but wonder how he'd made it this far in the first place.

It was magic, magic and an intense amount of hatred that kept him alive. The energy he gathered from the Espers pulsed and hummed with a life force all its own, keeping him alive long after he'd succumbed to cold and hunger, lying there for several hours until at last he began to stir.

It was still dark when he opened his eyes. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, with patches of fog lingering near the water's edge. Kefka hadn't noticed the pond before, or that the water appeared to be glowing. The light surrounding the surface of the water moved and pulsed in waves, with iridescent ripples fanning out in all directions as a gust of wind came up, blowing the leaves from a nearby tree into the water.

As he watched, the shimmering ripples began to form intricate patterns. They resembled spiderwebs, with threads like diamonds that snaked across the surface of the water. They came together at the water's edge, forming a luminous orb that slowly began to drift towards him. A wind came up around him, swirling the damp leaves that had gathered on the forest floor, and suddenly he heard her voice speaking to him from within the glowing ball of light.

"Kefka, you poor thing. What's happened to you since I left?"

"Terra... My precious Terra." He reached towards the glowing sphere, his trembling fingers closing around thin air as the sphere drifted towards the pond. "Wait," he said, panic rising in his voice as he crawled towards the light. "You can't go. Terra, stop! Don't leave me!"

He drug himself along the ground until he reached the water's edge, the shining sphere of light hovering over the center of the pond.

"Drink," the voice said. "You'll feel better. I promise."

Kefka looked at the luminous water, his spirits lifting as he realized what this was. "It's a recovery spring," he whispered, thinking for a moment that it was too good to be true. He leaned forward, inching closer towards the glowing pond, and dipped his hand into the water. The water felt like ice against the back of his throat, but the more he drank the less he was able to feel pain from the gash in his leg. Kefka kept drinking until his wounds were completely healed. He then collapsed on his side, his gaze fixated on the glowing ball of light.

"The others will come," said the voice within the glowing orb. "They will be here before long, and they will take you back to camp."

"Let them come," he said, a bitter note of resentment in his voice. "I'll deal with them the same way I did those bastards in Albrook."

"Kefka, you must go with them. If you stay here, you will die."

"Who cares? We're all born dying, clinging to each breath as though there were something worth living for. But everything we build will inevitably be destroyed, and every living thing will wither and turn to dust. Why should I be any different? At least I'll get to spend my final moments here with you."

The light flicked and went out, leaving him blinking and staring at the empty space that remained. There was a moment, a solitary shard of time in which he thought he lost her, only to see the light reappear in the form of Terra Branford.

She knelt beside him, the water rising past her ankles as she leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. "I care," she whispered. "All lives are precious, Kefka. Even yours." And with that she vanished into mist, leaving him to wait for the soldiers from the campsite.


	40. Mixed Feelings

There were footsteps, bright lights and the sound of many voices. One by one they gathered around, shining the light in his eyes as a soldier knelt beside him, trying to see if he was still conscious. Another soldier stood close by, his fingers tangled around a leash that was attached to a Vector hound. They had used these hounds to track his scent through the woods, and after several days of searching had located him in the Phantom Forest.

Kefka was barely conscious when they found him, his clothing torn and caked with a mixture of earth and blood. It was clear that he'd been there for a while, lying in the mud while making no attempt to move or feed himself. At some point in time he'd gotten sick from lack of food, and had vomited bile onto the ground where he was laying. But not even this foul mess could force him to move, because if he left he might not see her again.

She had visited him several times in his dreams, her transparent form lingering near the water's edge. He was at peace so long as he was with her, his mind at ease as he listened to the sweet sound of her voice. This was a sacred space, the waters from the spring helping to clear his mind and show him the one thing he desired most. And for the first time in several years he was able to sleep without interruption.

When he woke she was right there beside him, keeping him company during the long days and cold nights. She spoke to him, encouraging him to hold on while they waited for help to arrive. But by now he was suffering from dehydration, hunger and exposure to the elements. Under normal conditions these things would have little effect on him. He'd gotten used to eating little and sleeping even less, and in most cases he was unable to eat or sleep due to the long term side effects from the infusions. But this was different. His mind and body were slowly beginning to shut down. He truly believed that he had found what he was looking for, which meant that his journey was over.

He was too tired to continue past this point. After spending more than a decade trapped within the confines of his mind, fighting countless demons and otherworldly creatures, he felt ready to sleep right where he was. He wanted to relax in the arms of endless sleep, as one day passed into the next, until there was nothing left. No pain, no words, no nightmares and sickness. Just her. Only her, his precious Terra.

One of the soldiers called for a medic, who emerged from the crowd and knelt beside the fallen wizard. He felt along the inside of Kefka's wrist, waiting for over a minute before he was able to detect a pulse. Kefka was alive, but he was barely breathing, his heart fluttering rapidly in a feeble attempt to keep blood circulating through his veins. The only thing keeping him alive at this point was the magic he'd received from Ifrit, which kept his temperature hovering around eighty-seven degrees. Without it he would have died from hypothermia.

"We need to stabilize him before returning the camp." The medic glanced over his shoulder, looking at the crowd of people that had gathered near the spring. "I need blankets. Lots of warm, heavy blankets. And I'll need someone to help me get him out of those wet clothes. But you must be careful. Any sudden movements could cause him to go into cardiac arrest."

The men worked to carefully cut away his brightly colored clothing, then lifted him onto a stretcher and covered him with a layer of blankets. His beautiful clothes were reduced to dirty scraps of fabric, his feathers trampled and scattered across the mud. Some feared retaliation for ruining Kefka's lovely outfit, but right now it was more important that they brought him inside and warmed him up. They'd deal with his tantrum later after he recovered.

\------------

Kefka did not respond for several minutes, his eyes opening briefly before losing consciousness again. They needed to get him to a hospital for treatment, but the nearest town was over a hundred miles away. There were some medical suppIies and equipment back at camp, which was approximately five days from the Phantom Forest. This left them with few options and even fewer supplies. All they could do was monitor his breathing and keep him warm while they waited to see if he'd recover.

Within a few hours he began to show signs of recovery, his senses returning as a series of blurred images clouded his vision. But try as he might, he couldn't focus on his surroundings. They were falling away faster than he could grasp at a single word or thought, the world collapsing right before his very eyes. And yet he knew enough of what was happening to realize that Terra was gone.

He could sense the emptiness that lingered in the air, her presence fading the moment he opened his eyes. His voice failed him as he tried to express his concerns regarding Terra's sudden disappearance. Goddammit, why weren't these fools listening to him? Didn't they understand that Terra was missing? Didn't they realize how important she was?

He tried grasping the nearest person by the collar of their shirt, his arm flailing uselessly as he succeeded in slapping the soldier across the face. He wanted to scream her name, calling her back from the brink of his dreams. She'd been there for so long, holding his hand as he drifted in a cold, wet, miserable stupor. When he shivered and tried crawling across the forest floor, she was there. When he was was sick from not eating, she sat down beside him. She smoothed the hair out of his face, speaking softly as her gentle voice lulled him to sleep.

He remembered seeing her face above him, a smile blossoming on her lips as he reached towards her, his fingers closing around nothing but the wind. It made him want to scream, for he longed to hold her and feel the warmth of her embrace. But there was no warmth in her touch when she placed her hand over his.

"I'm here, Kefka," she murmured. "I never left you. I've been here all along. In here." She placed her other hand over her heart. "I'm here for you. Don't forget that."

His struggle ended abruptly when a sharp pain pierced his arm. He didn't realize how much time had passed since he first came to. That was days ago, his consciousness slipping away within a matter of minutes after he slapped the soldier across the face. Kefka blinked and looked around, taking stock of his surroundings. This was the medical tent back at camp. An IV had been placed in his arm, providing him with much needed fluids that had been warmed to help raise his temperature. The medic was standing next to him with a pair of soldiers guarding the exit.

None of this made sense. In the forest it felt like weeks had passed. But now that he was here, surrounded by bright lights, noise and people, it was beginning to feel like a dream.

A moment passed as he stared at the needle in his arm. She wasn't here. It was over and she had vanished into the great unknown. His voice returned suddenly as he let fly with a string of incoherent ramblings, most of which sounded like obscenities and muddled death threats. He was furious. He wanted her back. But within a matter of minutes he was falling into darkness. He could feel a pair of hands holding him down, but it was pointless. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't find her. If he was lucky he might see her in his dreams. And so he let himself sink into the soothing blackness he'd felt by the pond, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he would find her there.

\----------

The next few days were spent in silence, with Kefka lost in thought as he gazed at the ceiling. Every now and then the medic would bring him a cup of hot cocoa, which came as a surprise since he wasn't expecting them to start handing out warm, delicious mugs of hot chocolate. They said it was treatment for hypothermia, and that providing warm beverages would help raise his temperature. But Kefka didn't care why they made it for him. All that mattered was that he was got spend some time relaxing and drinking his favorite beverage.

As soon as he finished his drink he asked for more, drinking several cups of cocoa before falling asleep. He had no desire to move from this spot, not until he formulated a plan that would bring Terra back. But all that was about to change when a letter from the Emperor presented him with the opportunity to reclaim his precious pet.

Kefka was sitting on his cot when a letter arrived, propped up on a mound of pillows and sipping from a mug of cocoa. There was a bundle of multicolored cloth in his lap, which was all that remained of his brightly colored jester's robes. No matter. Kefka had enough sense to make more than one outfit, and he always brought a spare set of clothes, makeup and chocobo feathers whenever he traveled.

He looked up when he heard the sound of footsteps, the canvas moving as a young solder eased it aside and entered the tent.

"Palazzo, sir, this letter arrived for you." The soldier hesitated before approaching the cot. He held the envelope at arm's length, trying to keep his distance from the irritable wizard. "It's from the Emperor, sir."

Kefka snatched the envelope out of his hand and tore it open with his claws. His thoughts were still focused on her, making it difficult to concentate on the instructions in the letter. Same thing really. That blasted Gestahl ordering him to Narshe on some mission. But wait. What's this? Oh, an Esper you say. A frozen Esper sleeping in the mines, and he'd been given the order to go there and collect this precious treasure.

This Esper, it was quite the prize, wasn't it? He could consume its magic, savoring the rich delicacy as he watched the ancient creature turn to dust. And who knows? Maybe Esper blood was like wine, its flavor intensifying with age. Just thinking about it was enough to send waves of pleasure down his spine, his nerves tingling as saliva pooled in the back of his mouth.

These poor fools. They had no idea what they were missing. Every delicate grain of concentrated magic contained a million points of light, like a jewel in the rough, a black diamond, waiting to fill every fiber of his being with unimaginable pleasure. It was enough to set his soul on fire, making him crave the rush he felt when he absorbed their magic. It was more addicting than any drug, more alluring than gold. There was nothing like it on earth, and he shuddered at the thought of obtaining a new specimen for his collection.

How long had it been since he last felt a new, potent surge of magic coursing through his veins? The experiments had ended years ago, and ever since then he'd been forced to do without. Unacceptable, he thought, laughter rising in his throat as he wadded the letter and caused it to burst into flames. He would have that frozen Esper, and then he would go in search of more priceless treasures until he captured every last one of them in existence.

Meanwhile, several hundred miles away in a snow covered house in Narshe, Terra sat in a chair by the fireplace, listening to the conversation as the Returners filed into the room. Most of them were familiar faces she'd met during the course of her travels. The others were strangers, ranging from a boy draped in animal hides to a middle-aged man with long, dark hair in a ponytail. Each of them had a story to tell, some worse than others. But it was Cyan's story that effected her on a deep, personal level.

She could see the sorrow in his eyes, the grief hidden beneath a stoic mask as he tried to conceal his pain. The others didn't notice, but this man was clearly suffering. And all because of Kefka, a man she couldn't remember, and yet it felt like she had known him all along. It was then that she began to feel a new, conflicting set of emotions. There were echoes from her past, images and feelings that couldn't be erased.

When she learned of the atrocities committed in Doma, her heart leapt up into her throat, pausing as her hand covered her mouth, and a single breath slipped past her lips. She gasped, thinking that none of this was real, none of this was happening. There was something gnawing at the back of her mind, confusion mixed with doubt, for how could this man possibly be the same person she remembered in her dreams.

There were times when Kefka's voice violated the sanctity of her dreams, pushing through the endless shadows and allowing her to witness moments from her past. Was there a time when she used to care about him? It certainly felt like it. Or was it something else? And if so, why? Why was she surprised to learn that Kefka had poisoned the citizens of Doma? She'd seen the way he behaved in Figaro, she knew he was a monster and that he couldn't be trusted. But her feelings from the past wouldn't let go. And try as she might, she couldn't escape the strange sensation that told her he was worth saving.

These feelings twisted into an uncomfortable knot, making her feel sick to her stomach. Kefka was appalling. He was a foul, loathsome, horrible excuse for a human being. He didn't deserve to be loved and cared for. So why was she so certain that he had managed to do some good in his lifetime?

"Terra? Are you alright? You look like you're going to be sick."

Terra lifted her head and saw Locke standing in front of her. She nodded, keeping her arms around her waist as she curled in on herself. She didn't know if any of this was real, or if she had, at one point in time, been able to feel something for the man who had singlehandedly destroyed an entire city. It felt wrong. It felt as though something were missing. She wanted something to hold, something that would comfort her. And in the back of her mind she remembered the moogles they saw in passing as they fled from the Imperial soldiers.

"There's someone here for you," Locke continued. "She says she wants to see you. I don't know if you'll remember her or not, but according to her the two of you were friends during the time you spent in Vector." Locke stepped aside, revealing a young woman with blond hair that spilled over her shoulders and past her waist.

Terra blinked and looked at her in confusion, not knowing what to think or how she should respond as the former General crossed the room and embraced her like a long lost sister. She gasped when she felt the cold radiating from Celes' skin, but that was all she felt, and once again Terra was left wondering why she didn't feel anything for this person. They told her they were friends, that they had grown up together in the iron halls of Vector, but none of this felt familiar.

Had she been numbed by something other than the cold? Had she forgotten how to feel? Or was it something she never learned in the first place? The logical part of her mind told there was a reason, an explanation for the way Celes was behaving. But her heart told a different story, one of emotions and memories laid to waste by the creations of a man who sought to control her.

For years her thoughts and actions had been guided by another. He didn't let her experience pain or joy, sorrow or hate. When her senses returned she felt at a loss for words, and was unable to understand these affectionate gestures. Whatever she felt for Celes, if in fact she had felt anything at all, was gone now. The only reason she was able to cling to some semblance of emotion was because he had controlled her, manipulating her to the point where it was impossible to remove every trace of him from her memory.

It took a moment for Celes to register the fact that Terra was not responding. She put her hands on Terra's shoulders, holding her at arm's length as she took a good, long look at her friend. Silence stretched between them as the older of the two girls realized that her friend was gone. They were strangers now, unable to recognize each other due to changes she'd undergone.

"Terra," she said softly, watching as the young girl appeared to wilt before her eyes. Her gaze drifted upwards, and she discovered an odd mark on Terra's forehead. It appeared to be a scar, or some sort of blemish left behind by the slave crown. But when she moved to brush the hair out of her face, Terra whimpered and backed away, cowering like a frightened animal.

"What did he do to you?" Celes whispered, her heart sinking into the pit of her stomach. "You're afraid of me, aren't you, Terra?"

"I'm sorry." Terra's gaze drifted towards the floor. Everything that had happened in the past felt like nothing more than a faded dream, the kind you think you might have had, but the details slip away before you can fully grasp their meaning. "I don't know who you are. But you seem familiar..."

Celes watched as Terra's fingers closed around her wrist, her eyes widening as she recognized the energy radiating from her skin. She could feel it moving and pulsing just beneath the surface of her skin, an energy that thrummed with a life force all its own, and she knew at once that Celes had been given the gift of magic.

"Magic," Terra whispered, as though she were in awe of the former General. "You can you use magic too, right?"

"Yes, I can use magic," Celes replied. "When we were teenagers, I volunteered to join the Magitek research program and became the first ever Rune Knight."

"And is it possible for you to experience love? And have feelings for another person?"

Celes jerked her hand out of Terra's grasp, looking as though she'd been offended by her words. "What are you playing at, Terra Branford?" she snapped, her tone suddenly harsh as she glared at her former friend. "Is this some kind of joke?" She stopped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked back to see Locke standing beside her.

Locke frowned and shook his head. Celes returned his look of displeasure, scowling as she removed his hand from her shoulder. She then pushed past him and made her way towards the opposite end of the room, her back against the wall with her arms folded across her chest as she listened to the rest of their conversation.

"Do you see what I'm saying?" The mayor of Narshe came forward, his expression grim as he eyed the group of people that had gathered in his home. "This is why we must avoid conflict with the empire. The citizens of Doma were collaborating with the Returners, and they paid for it with their lives. By remaining neutral we can avoid going to war. And I for one do not wish to see the people of this humble town slaughtered like a bunch of dogs."

"Humph! You think it's that easy? Just hide under your bed and the empire will leave you alone?" Locke motioned towards Celes. "You heard what she said. The empire is heading this way as we speak. And if we don't start preparing for battle, they'll sneak in here and kill us in our sleep."

"Pardon me, Sir Locke." Cyan came forward and cast a suspicious glance in Celes' direction before continuing. "But I do believe Sir Shadow confirmed Kefka's death in the Phantom Forest."

Locke gaped at him. "You cannot be serious."

Cyan nodded. "Indeed I am. And I don't suppose one can lead thy troops to war if thou art deceased."

An audible gasp was heard throughout the room, followed by whispers and murmurs as the people began to talk amongst themselves. Locke turned to Celes, his lips moving silently as he sought to find his voice. She appeared to be the only one who wasn't surprised by the news. It was because she knew the sort of man he was, and that his illness extended far beyond violence and hatred towards every living thing in existence.

"He's not the sort of person that would fake his own death, is he?" asked Locke.

"No, he's not," Celes stated calmly. "But he's very sick. He has the mentality of a child, and he's a danger to himself as well as others. Without proper supervision there's no telling what sort of trouble he'll get into." She paused, her gaze drifting towards the fireplace. The crackling flames reminded her of him, and she shuddered as the ghost of his laughter entered her mind. "You have no idea how sick he was. Not unless you lived around him and saw what he was capable of on a daily basis."

The conversation was interrupted by a loud thump as the girl in the corner suddenly slid off the chair and onto the floor. Locke turned around and nearly leapt out of his skin when he saw that Terra had collapsed. He was at her side in an instant, followed by Edgar who helped lift her off the floor and carry her to the upstairs bedroom.

They didnt know what made the young woman faint, nor could they explain it to her when she started asking questions. It was part of her ties to Kefka, the emotions that she felt without knowing or remembering why she had them. It left her feeling dazed and confused, as she sifted through her memories and tried to understand why she felt this way.

In time she would learn to keep these thoughts to herself, concealing her emotions for fear of rejection from the others. They despised Kefka, and not without reason, she told herself, for he had been responsible for the death of an entire civilization. That too came as a surprise. And when the combined weight everything she heard became too much for her bear, she fainted from the shock of knowing that this man, this man who was both a brother and a complete stranger, was not who she thought he was, and that he had died from exposure in a forest far away.


	41. Calm Before The Storm

Edgar sighed heavily, massaging his temples in an effort to relieve the discomfort that was building behind his eyes. "I wasn't expecting this." He shook his head, then turned to face the others. "If Kefka is dead, then what is the empire's next move? Will they continue to Narshe without him?"

"There are others who can take his place," said Celes, her face illuminated by the flickering firelight as she stood beside the bed. "Leo can do it, but I doubt if he knows what's happening. If they haven't located the body, then it'll be some time before the soldiers contact the Emperor. Either way it'll take a couple days for a letter from the eastern continent to reach Vector."

"And how long do you think it'll take before the soldiers discover that he's missing?"

Celes shrugged. "It depends on whether or not he went out with a bang. If he left the campsite in ruins, there won't be anyone left to report back to Gestahl. But if he wandered off without telling anyone where he was going, then it'd take less than twenty-four hours before they noticed he was missing."

"We didn't see any fireworks on our way here," said Sabin. "But I'm having a hard time believing a guy like that just keeled over in the middle of the woods."

"And Shadow couldn't stick a knife in his back to make sure he was dead?" asked Locke.

"No, not when there's nothing in it for him. But I'm sure if we threw in a couple hundred gil he'd consider it."

They continued their conversation long into the night, making plans and discussing their next move. They decided to move the frozen Esper onto a ridge beyond the mines, and although the mayor was hesitant to allow his citizens to go to war, he could see that he didn't have a choice. Someone from the empire was coming, and with them came the battle he'd been trying to avoid.

"But what if they call the whole thing off?" asked the mayor, looking desperately from one Returner to another. "If they discover that Kefka is dead, then perhaps it will be enough to stop this before it begins. Or at least stave off the attack while they consider their options."

"Nothing is going to stop them," Celes huffed, her brow creasing as an angry scowl spread across her face. "The only thing you can hope for is that Leo will take charge of the situation, because there'll be less casualties if he's involved."

"Thou art saying much for one who has supposedly turned against thy country," Cyan muttered, giving her a suspicious glare from across the room.

"Excuse me?" Celes inhaled sharply, breathing out a puff of steam as the temperature dropped by several degrees. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying you still don't trust me?"

"Thou hast no proof which might sway my judgment. I believe thou art the same as thy fellow soldiers, and until I see reason to think otherwise, I shall continue to be wary of thy presence."

"Fine! Use your eyes if you must, and you'll see which side I'm on. I'm not here to sway your judgment with pretty words anyway."

"Celes, please." Sabin put a hand on her shoulder, lowering his voice so as not to be overheard by Cyan. "He lost his family when Kefka poisoned the river. You can't blame him for being upset right now. I would be too if I experienced what he went through."

Celes was silent, her gaze drifting towards the bed as Terra shifted slightly and moaned. She wondered how would Terra react if she she confronted Kefka and met face to face with her forgotten past. Would she embrace him like an old friend? Or would she strike him down the moment his back was turned?

There was always the chance that she would go running back to him, her arms around the painted jester as though they'd never spent a day apart. If that happened, if Terra decided it was easier to return to the man she knew rather than start a new life with the Returners, then everything they'd worked for would crumble in a heartbeat.

It would start with Cyan, who would turn on Celes before being driven from the group when she attempted to defend herself. Sabin would go with him, his efforts failing as he tried convincing the samurai to return, while Gau fled in terror after witnessing Celes' magical abilites. Locke would be caught in the middle as Celes stormed out in a fit of rage, her actions forcing him to choose between her and the Returners.

The scene would dissolve into chaos, with Terra clinging to Kefka as he ordered his men to kill the remaining members of the group. She would realize the error of his ways, but not before he annihilated every last member of the resistance. By then it would be too late. And even if she managed to fight him and escape, there would be no where left to run, no one who was willing to take her in after she betrayed her friends.

Celes shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the horrific images that passed before her eyes. She could see it so clearly: Terra with her arms around him, Kefka laughing as he picked her up and spun her around like she was five years old. Sometimes she wondered if he desired Terra more than the magical essence he drained from the Espers. It was possible that he placed her above everything but himself, but Celes couldn't be sure.

\------------

Terra awoke some time before dawn, the frozen skies dark with clouds obscured the moon. And although she put a smile on her face and pretended that she was alright, she felt no closer to understanding herself than she was when this began.

She sat on the side of the bed, listening to the sounds coming from downstairs. Their voices drifted up from down below, mingling with the sound of footsteps, as well as soft thumps and bangs as they hauled the packages in from outside. Edgar and Celes had been to the local shops and purchased the weapons and armor they needed for the coming battle. They were now in the process of checking everything to make sure they were ready for whatever the empire had in store for them.

The mattress shifted beneath her weight, springs squeaking as she stood up and made her way downstairs. She paused on the upstairs landing, watching as the people moved about. She wondered how it came to this. How had she become embroiled in this war? Is this all they wanted? Did they really want to be just like her, and wield the power of the elements in battle?

She positioned her right hand so that her palm was facing upwards, her other hand on the banister as she examined the fine lines on her palm. Sometimes it felt surreal, like living in a dream where none of this was really happening. A whisper slipped past her lips, and flames sprang to life in the palm of her hand.

This was it. This was what they wanted.

She allowed the flames the dance across her palm, moving in waves that illuminated the darkened halls. Shadows moved across the contours of her face, hugging the spaces around her eyes. To look into her eyes was like watching flecks of glitter shifting and moving inside a lava lamp, with embers dancing inside an emerald green sea. You might not see it the first time you looked at her, but it was always there. Like a silent remnant of the past, hinting at what she truly was.

Terra closed her fingers around the shimmering flames, absorbing the heat into her skin. The fire was snuffed out, plunging the hallway into darkness. Several minutes passed in silence before she continued downstairs and joined the others in the living room.

The activity ceased the moment she walked into the room, with heads turning as they stopped to look at her. Locke was first to come forward and ask if she was alright. Terra nodded, avoiding the uncomfortable glances as she moved towards the boxes that had been stacked near the door.

She ran her hand over the rough cardboard. "Is all of this really necessary?" she asked, her fingers finding the flap and pulling back to reveal various weapons crafted from the finest steel.

"We're going up against an army, Terra. And to make matters worse, we don't know what the empire is sending our way. So we have to be prepared for anything, including the possibly of going to war with Kefka."

"Kefka." His name escaped her in the form of a whisper, her lips barely moving as she spoke.

Locke shifted slightly, his hands in his pockets as addressed her from behind. "You don't have to come with us if you're not feeling up to it. We would really appreciate your help, though. But after everything you've been through, no one would blame you if you wanted to sit this one out, Terra."

She thought about it for a minute, watching as the others tried on various forms of armor and tested weapons. Sabin was in the corner near fireplace, dueling with his brother as he tried out a new pair of metal claws. Gau was watching them from the couch, his hands and feet digging into the plush material as he barked and howled, cheering them on from across the room. Cyan was keeping his distance from Terra and Celes, and was in the process of sharpening his blade with a whetstone. Every now and then he glanced in their direction, keeping an eye on the two he deemed least trustworthy.

"I'll go with you," said Terra, a note of hesitation in her voice. It was a difficult decison to make, but if she wanted to know whether or not this was right, or if the memories of him meant anything at all, she was going to have to confront him and find out for herself.

"Alright then." Locke tuned and motioned towards Celes. "You should let her help. I'm afraid I don't know much about women's clothing and armor. And don't try asking Edgar for help no matter how eager he is to lend a hand. I know he means well, but the guy can get carried away sometimes."

She looked at him and nodded, then made her way over to Celes.

Meanwhile, in another part of the world, a ship had set sail and was moving towards the north western continent. There was more than three dozen soldiers aboard the ship, each one equipped with the latest in magitek armor. But they weren't the deadliest weapons the empire possessed. That weapon, or rather that person, was lying in bed with his arms wrapped around his waist.

Kefka closed his eyes, trembling as an agonized whine slipped past his lips. He couldn't stop shaking, he couldn't silence the voices in his head. It felt so empty without her. He needed something to hold, something that would fill the space she left behind, but he never found his missing doll. It had been lost to the sands of time, leaving him broken and alone.

Hours past before he forced himself out of bed and made his way over to the window. When he looked out he saw clouds on the horizon, the moon obscured by shifting patterns of light and dark, and slowly his mind began to turn away from the scenes he'd witnessed in the Phantom Forest. It was nothing but a dream, one that would be forgotten by the time they arrived in Narshe.

He shifted slightly, reaching around and scratching his back below his left wing. Damn thing had started itching again, and they were always so hard to reach. He wondered if claiming the frozen Esper might provide some relief, maybe soothe the itch and make these pitiful little things grow into something more impressive. Either way it would be nice to sink his claws into some fresh meat, to savor the taste and see if he could use it to show her what she really was.

If he could make her see the truth, then perhaps she would return. There had always been something there, something that connected them from the moment he had his first infusion. And if his visions were correct, it would all come crashing down the moment she got close to that frozen relic.

\--------------

Celes took the lead as they made their way out onto the windswept ridge. Terra was trailing behind, her arms around her chest as she struggled to keep warm. She looked up at Celes as the former General climbed the snowy ridge with ease, her cloak billowing out behind her on the wind.

Celes was in her element, moving with such speed and grace that none could keep up with her. She'd been coming up here every morning for the past few days, keeping a lookout for any sign of the Imperial army. She was the only one who could withstand the cold for long periods of time, and so she had been chosen to keep watch over the village.

It took a while for Terra to catch up with her, the cold winds driving her back as she made her way to the top of the ridge. When she reached the top she stopped beside Celes, rubbing her hands together until she was able to generate a small spark that burst into a roaring fireball. She sighed with relief, warming herself by the fire as Celes took a step back and glared at her.

"Why did you follow me?" asked Celes. "You didn't have to come here. You could have stayed behind and kept warm in the village."

"I know. But I wanted to speak with you in private, away from all those people who keep staring at me every time I walk into the room."

Celes looked at the fireball in her friend's hands. "Go on," she said at length, only to recover her usual attitude a minute later when she added, "And if this about whether or not I'm capable of having feelings for others, let's just say that I consider public displays of emotion unprofessional, to say the least."

"Huh?" Terra blinked and looked at her in confusion. "No, it's just that I... I was wondering if you could tell me what you remember. You know, about me, about the life I had before this."

Her stern gaze melted right before her very eyes, and the older of the two girls sighed, causing a puff of steam to pass between her lips.

"I don't think you really want to know about that, Terra." Her voice was cold, frozen and emotionless like the mountains that surrounded them. "I couldn't protect you from him. And now that we're away from it all, I'm not going to drag you down into the hell we came from by telling you your life story."

Terra was silent, the wind whipping strands of hair across her face. She thought she knew him, but the stories she heard clashed with the dreams she had. What sort of horrors had this man brought into the world? And why was it enough to silence the former General? She let her gaze drift towards the snow covered ground, and was about to speak when they felt the earth tremble beneath their feet.

Both girls looked towards the horizon and saw several dozen soldiers, dogs and armored vehicles moving towards the village.

"They're here!" Celes exclaimed. "The empire is coming!" She jumped off the rocky ledge and bolted down the path, leaving Terra in the dust as she left to warn the others.

Terra hesitated before following her downhill, her gaze focused on the troops in the distance. She couldn't tell whether or not Kefka was leading them, or if Leo had taken his place because the mage had perished in the woods. She could feel her pulse accelerate, her mouth suddenly dry as her stomach twisted in an uncomfortable knot. If he was dead, then their troubles should be over. But somehow it felt as though it wouldn't be that simple.

She looked back at the Esper, glancing at its frozen form atop the snowy ridge behind her. No, it wasn't that simple. This was far from being over, and that frozen creature would be the one who decided what happened next. It wouldn't be Kefka or Leo, or anyone from the empire who made the final decision. This was between her and Valigarmanda. It wasn't about them anymore.


	42. Metamorphosis

This was it. The moment that he'd been waiting for. He could feel it in the air, the magic flowing from atop the cliffs, cascading like an avalanche of snow. Kefka stopped, his red and gold cloak billowing out behind him on the wind. His heart began to race, thrumming against his ribs like the wings of a hummingbird, faster now, as he clenched his fists, threw his head back and laughed.

The soldiers stopped and looked at each other. One of them spoke, but his words barely registered in Kefka's mind. It's not like he was saying anything worth listening to. Stupid, useless, insipid little monkeys. Maybe that one, the one on the left, would have an unfortunate accident involving some friendly fire.

Yes, fire. That was always a good solution. Kefka spun around, still laughing like a maniac, and hurled a fireball at the soldier on his left. "You idiot!" he screeched, his high pitched voice cutting through the frozen air. "There's a reason why 'oppose' rhymes with 'dispose'. If they get in your way kill them! And the same goes for anyone that questions my decision!" he added, ignoring the burning soldier who had broken from the group and was now running through the snow covered field.

The soldier was screaming, his body wreathed in flames as he fell to the ground and rolled across the snow. But it wasn't enough. Kefka had to see the light leave his eyes before he was satisfied with what he'd done. He had to use him as an example, show them what happened when you questioned the almighty Kefka Palazzo.

Lightning flashed in the palm of his hand, a sadistic grin spreading from ear to ear as the roar of thunder exploded overhead. One word, one single incantation was all it took, and the soldier lay dead in the snow.

"Now move!" Kefka shouted, motioning towards the village.

The soldiers wasted no time obeying his orders. They quickened their pace, the crazed magician leading the way as he sprinted across the snow.

\-------------

Celes reached the village in record time, the door flying open and hitting the wall with a resounding bang as she entered the mayor's house. The Returners looked up when they saw her standing in the doorway. She was breathing heavily and clutching a stitch in her side, her blond hair dusted with flakes of snow.

"They're coming!" she managed between labored breaths. "The empire, they're on their way here now, with magitek armor and more than fifty soldiers."

Edgar came forward, moving past his brother and standing beside her in the doorway.

"Did you see who was leading them?"

"No." Celes leaned forward, one hand clinging to the doorframe as she took a moment to catch her breath. "I couldn't make out who was leading the group. But they're headed this way and should be here within an hour."

The King took charge of the situation, leading the way as they followed the path into the mountains. It was here that they would make their stand, while Sabin, Gau and Cyan joined forces with the townsfolk to battle the first wave of soldiers.

Edgar took one last look at the soldiers that had gathered on the ridge, the wind whipping his cloak as he turned to face Celes. He'd seen Kefka's power when they were forced to flee Figaro castle, and although he wouldn't admit it, he feared there was little they could do against someone with such immense power.

"You've lived and worked around him," he said at length, his expression grim as he turned away from the scene below. "We were attacked by Kefka and forced to flee to safety. That night... I swear I witnessed something that went beyond what you call magic. It were as though every beast that had ever been spawned in the deepest, darkest pits of hell met and came together in his eyes."

"And your point?" Celes didn't take her eyes off the soldiers as she spoke. Her stoic mask in place, she appeared cold and distant, looking very much like she was uninterested in what he had to say.

"What is he, Celes? What sort of experiment changes a man until he becomes the monster I saw in the desert?"

Celes sighed heavily, her breath steaming in the frigid air. "Kefka isn't human, Edgar. His humanity died years ago, along with any common sense or decency he might have had. But if you think you've seen him at his worst, then you've got a lot to learn. That man is death personified. And that's if you happen to come across him on a good day."

Silence stretched between them, broken by the howling winds that rose from the canyon far below. Locke stood next to her, shivering and muttering curses under his breath, while Terra stood off to the side, wringing her hands in nervous anticipation.

Celes cupped her hands, a swirling mass of snow and ice materializing in the space between her palms. The delicate ice crystals rose into the air, creating a storm cloud that drifted towards town. Her lips moved, forming the incantation that would summon the elements from the sky, and a hail of daggers made from blades of ice rained down upon the Imperial soldiers.

The soldiers fell back, raising their shields in an effort to protect themselves from the deadly ice storm. Those that weren't quick enough were felled by her vicious onslaught, their bodies scattered on the battlefield with shards of ice protruding from their chest. The soldiers who were piloting magitek armor escaped unharmed, save for a few who had their windshields cracked by the barrage of ice crystals.

Cyan, Sabin and Gau took cover amongst the buildings, watching as the soldiers began to fall. Gau was first to charge the ranks when the storm subsided, followed by Sabin and Cyan as they fought to drive the Imperial soldiers out of town. They managed to defeat several troops before falling back and allowing Celes to launch her second attack.

The former General brought her hands together, and the ground began to shake. When she opened her mouth her voice rose in a scream, her arms held out at her sides as an avalanche came roaring down the side of the mountain, devouring everything that got in its way.

The soldiers who survived her first attack weren't quick enough to move their armored vehicles out of the path of the avalanche. One by one they vanished beneath the snow, the sunlight glinting off the exposed metal in places where the armored vehicles hadn't been completely covered in snow.

There was a pause, followed by a series of clicks and whirs as the magitek armor began charging power. A crimson light shone at the mouth of the draconian suit of armor, its jaws opening wide as a stream of fire spewed from its gaping maw. Sabin leapt back, narrowly avoiding a jet of fire as the soldiers started melting the snow that covered their vehicles. Gau started, yipping and howling as the ground erupted in violent fury. The youth ran across the snow, dodging fire beams that sprang like geysers from beneath towering columns of snow. When he reached Sabin he crouched down, hiding in the monk's shadow as Cyan ran past, still fighting the troops that had managed to avoid the avalanche.

Locke was watching everything from his place on the hillside, his eyes wide and staring. "No," he whispered, his lips barely moving as he spoke. He clenched his fists, trembling as a bead of sweat formed on his brow and slid down the side of his face. "That's not possible," he said at length, looking sideways at Celes. "How are you doing that? How can you just call out storms and ice and take out half the army with an avalanche?" He swallowed hard, a nervous smile forming on his lips as he looked back at the Imperial soldiers. "You know what? I'm just gonna enjoy our victory and not think about it too hard."

"Humph!" Celes narrowed her eyes, glaring at him over her shoulder. "We haven't won yet," she snapped. "And if Kefka is among the troops, then this battle is far from over."

"But surely he would have made his presence known if he were alive." Edgar glanced over the edge of the cliff, gazing down into the ravine for any sign of the crazed magician. "You don't think the poor fool perished in the forest, do you?" The words had barely left his mouth when a shrill cry rent the air.

Celes spun around and came face to face with the mad jester as he soared above the cliffs. He was on her in an instant, his hands around her neck as his nails sunk into her creamy, white flesh.

His face split in a wide grin, laughing through his teeth as he tightened his grip on the former General. "Celes," he snarled. "Little miss perfect... Perfect, so much better than me - " He broke off in midsentence, a muscle twitching over his left eye. A spasm caused him to jerk sideways, his head and neck twisting as he looked over his shoulder at Locke and Edgar. His fingers twitched and laugher exploded from his lips. "Little miss glitter blizzard!" he shouted in her face. "I've waited so long for this moment."

Edgar was just about to draw his sword when Celes managed to dig her heels into Kefka's stomach. She kicked him with all her strength, arching her back as she slammed her boots into his abdomen. The blow was enough to knock the wind out of him and send him sprawling on his back.

Kefka spluttered and gasped, one arm around his waist as he forced himself into a sitting position. When he looked up Celes was rapidly closing the gap between them, her sword drawn in preparation for whatever spell he tried casting on her. But that didn't stop him from conjuring a series of fireballs that burst and scattered in all directions. Most of the flaming projectiles were easily absorbed by her sword. The rest went soaring overhead and struck the ground at Terra's feet, causing her to scream and leap nearly a foot in the air.

Celes took to the skies, following Kefka as they rose towards the clouds. She swung her sword upwards, slashing then blocking as he unleashed another blistering wave of heat. He knew she needed a moment to absorb his magic, and saw this as an opportunity to strike back, clasping his hands together and hitting her in the side of the head with his fists.

She dropped like a stone, stopping herself in midair before she hit the ground, then launched herself at him for a second round of combat. But Kefka was no longer interested in continuing their fight. He heard Terra's scream, his attention focused on the girl who was standing between him and the frozen Esper.

Celes vanished on the spot, only to reappear behind him and deliver a swift kick to the small of his back. Kefka hit the ground, sliding across the snow on his back and landing several feet away from where Terra was standing, her eyes wide and staring at the crazed magician. She was trembling with fright, unable to move as he slowly sat up, eyeing her from across the battlefield.

There she was. His precious toy.

He got to his feet, giggling as he approached her. "Pretty doll," he murmured. "How soon you forget that you belong to me."

Terra shook her head, backing away from the demented clown. Terror gripped her heart, consuming her from the inside out, until she was unable to speak or breathe. It was like a vice closing around her throat, holding back the scream that was building in her chest.

"Oh?" Kefka stopped, one eyebrow raised as he cocked his head to the side. "Ha! And they tell me my memory is faulty. But I remember everything, my dear. Everything," he hissed, his breath steaming in the frigid air. "I could tell you things about yourself that you never even imagined."

"No. No, it's not true!" Terra came to a halt at the base of the frozen Esper, her back towards the ancient beast. "I don't believe you."

"Ah, but the fear in your eyes says otherwise. Tell me, what are you more afraid of? Are you afraid of me, or the truth I may reveal about you?" Kefka held out his hand, beckoning her with the simple gesture . "We're more alike than you realize, Terra. I can show you what you really are. All you have to do is be a good little girl and come with me."

Terra stared at his hand, her gaze slowly drifting towards his face. He looked so out of place in this world, a bizarre collection of patterns and swirls, stripes, spots and mismatched colors in a barren land of pure white snow. She could feel the darkness seeping from his core, staining the earth with the evil that filled his soul. And yet he said they were alike. How was that even possible?

A scream distracted her from her thoughts, and she looked back to see Edgar charge at Kefka, his sword glinting in the sunlight.

Kefka laughed and leapt out of the way, zigzagging through the snow like a jackrabbit. Celes rejoined the fight, her fingertips glowing as she fired a barrage of ice crystals from her palm. When Kefka tried to doge the flurry of ice and snow, he was met by Locke who had taken cover behind a snowdrift during his fight with Celes. Locke ambushed him from behind, stabbing him in the leg before rising to his feet and slashing him across the chest. Kefka started to fall, one hand clutching his bleeding chest as he lashed out with his claws, his long nails snatching Locke by the front of his shirt and pulling him down.

A scream tore from his throat as he felt the thief's weight crashing down on top of him. "You heavy load of stinking shit!" he spat, snarling like a rabid animal. Kefka's hand found the knife that slipped from Locke's grasp when they fell, his painted fingers curling around the hilt. A sickening smile spread across his painted lips, and he drove the blade into Locke's abdomen, laughing as the thief's mouth opened in a silent scream.

Time ground to a halt, the three friends watching in horror as Locke gasped and vomited blood onto Kefka's chest. There was a half second pause before Kefka's tongue snaked past his lips, licking the drops of blood that spattered the side of his face. He pulled the blade from Locke's stomach, replacing it with the palm of his hand, then screamed as he unleashed a burst of magical energy that launched the unfortunate thief fifteen feet into the air.

"Locke, no!" Celes screamed, watching as he became airborne.

He landed in a heap on the snow, his broken body no more than three feet from where Terra was standing. Terra gasped, her eyes wide as Locke twitched and clawed at the ground. He hadn't done anything to do deserve this. They were living, breathing people, with lives, hopes and dreams. They didn't deserve this. None of them did.

"Terra," he groaned, trying in vain to reach out to her, his fingers barely rising an inch off the ground. "Please help us..." His voice cracked, and a sudden fit of coughing left him unable to speak.

Kefka's shrill laughter spilt the silence of the cold morning, pulling her attention away from the dying thief as Kefka pranced about on the snow. She watched as he spun in a circle, the multitude of colors and fabric swirling around his lean form. He then proceeded to bend over and repeatedly slapped himself on the butt, taunting his foes with this childish display of arrogance.

Edgar's mouth dropped open, his voice failing as he watched Kefka's performance.

"You sick bastard!" Celes gripped her sword, the air shimmering with undulating streaks of light. "They never should have let you out of the hospital!" She assumed a fighting stance, the light growing stronger as she prepared to unleash another punishing wave of ice and snow.

Kefka cocked his head to the side, looking very much like an amused child. "Oh my! Such a lovely little plaything. You would have made an excellent puppet if it weren't for the fact that you're such an annoying little brat!"

His words were enough to push her over the edge. She raised her sword, her body wreathed in flowing tendrils of snow as she charged at him. Kefka grinned, his muscles tense as he dipped into the well of magical energy that ran wild through his veins, and a wall of shimmering flames erupted on either side of him.

The flames rose towards the heavens, dancing amongst glittering flecks of snow. The knights charged at each other, the collision causing an explosion of light that sent shockwaves pulsing through the earth. It was enough to knock Edgar off his feet, sending him soaring backwards where he landed on the path beside his fallen friend.

He could hear them screaming, fire and ice clashing on the mountain. Edgar raised a hand, shielding his eyes from the blinding flash as a second explosion shook the earth, followed by complete silence as the combatants were forced apart by none other than Terra Branford.

The incantation that he was about to cast died on his lips when Kefka saw her standing before him. "Terra," he cooed, the artificial smile reaching towards his ears. He started towards her, making it three steps across the snow before his injured leg gave out, causing him to fall down on one knee. When he looked up he saw Terra standing over him, her hand inches from his face with a swirling ball of bluish-gold flames in the palm of her hand.

His smile quickly faded, falling from his lips like a stone carelessly tossed into the river. "Terra," he said at length, astonishment lacing his tone. "What are you doing?"

"I'm putting a stop to this." Her voice was calm and determined, not at all like the frightened little girl he knew she was hiding inside. "I can't stand back and watch you destroy everything I care about."

The mage frowned, looking at her with disgust etched into the features of his face. "You care about them? Why? You don't even know them. What have they ever done for you?"

Terra was silent, the flames flickering and threatening to go out.

"I raised you," he continued. "I'm the one who cared for you when you were ill. I fed you, I bought you clothes and toys. I've done more for you than they have, and I'm the one who knows what you really are. You can try pretending that you're one of them, but we both know there's something more, something that separates us from the rest of them." He raised a hand, a sly smirk twisting the corners of his lips as he motioned towards the frozen Esper. "Look into its eyes and tell me what you see."

"Terra, stop!" Celes shouted. "Don't listen to him!"

Kefka giggled, watching as the flames absorbed in her skin, vanishing as she turned her head and looked up at the frozen Esper. He couldn't remember what life was like before the experiments began. But he remembered what they told him when they were trying to help him cope with the loss of his memories, and it was enough that he could try to manipulate her into coming back.

For one brief moment time ground to a halt, frozen as their eyes met across the icy terrain. There was a spark, a single point of light that flashed between them, and in that moment she saw everything: her father holding her in his arms, smiling as the wind whipped strands of hair across his face. This was the same world Terra visited in her dreams, a dark world wreathed in magic, where the sun shone for a moment then faded in the blink of an eye.

She didn't see them when she turned around, looking back at her friends and the mad jester who was kneeling beside her in the snow. When she looked at them she saw only light, every color of the rainbow as though she were gazing through a prism. Celes was surrounded by a pale blue aura, while Kefka was cloaked in a vibrant display of colors. Those without magic were invisible to her. And if she listened carefully, she could hear voices speaking to her from within the glowing bands of light.

Terra realized that this was what Kefka had to listen to on a daily basis. The Espers, each and every one of them that had been held captive and drained of their magic, were screaming for release. Dr. Cid said the voices were auditory hallucinations, but the truth was that Kefka's senses had been heightened to the point where he was able to see and hear things that others couldn't.

It was a logical explanation, one they hadn't thought to consider because they had never seen the world from Terra's point of view. They didn't know what it was like to see magical auras, or to smell rain and hear the storm long before clouds darkened the skies. They couldn't feel the vibrations in the earth, or the changes in air flow that indicated where her opponent was headed. Not even Celes had the ability to read air currents in order to predict her opponent's next move. And if Terra and Kefka shared the same abilities, then perhaps they were more alike than she realized.

"Who am I?" Terra whispered, her lips barely moving as she spoke. "What am I? Tell me what I am!" She didn't even realize that she was changing.

The mage cackled and rolled over onto his back. "Once she realizes what she is, she'll have no choice but to come with me," he said, laughing and rolling like this was some sort of joke. "I'm more like her than you'll ever be, and she deserves better than some snow conjuring sissy whose talents are better suited for making ice sculptures in the Imperial palace!"

Celes screamed and tried driving her blade into his chest, missing by a hairsbreadth as he laughed and rolled onto his side. She raised her sword and was about to try again when a sudden flash caught her eye. The air was shimmering with flecks of bluish light, and in the center of it all was Terra, her pale fingers wrapped around Celes' wrist to prevent her from attacking Kefka.

The former General almost dropped her sword when she saw Terra had become. She swallowed hard, her eyes wide as she stared at the mane of violet hair that spilled past Terra's waist. She'd heard rumors about Terra having a "secondary form", as Dr. Cid put it. But up until now she'd never seen it with her own eyes.

She looked closely at her friend, and saw that Terra's eyes were rimmed in black with pale irises that shone like shards of peridot in the sunlight. An odd combination of fur and feathers graced her hands and feet, with fur covering her fingers and toes, her wrists and ankles wreathed in a layer of soft, delicate feathers.

Terra looked at her, her pale lips forming a thin line across her face, and slowly, ever so slowly, she shook her head. The movement was so subtle it was barely noticeable. She then let go of Celes and turned to face the bleeding clown.

When Kefka saw her his face split into a wide grin. She was his twin, alike in so many ways thanks to what the experiments had done to him. He reached towards her, his fingertips brushing against the feathers that encircled her wrist. This was it. She was finally coming home.

He made to close his fingers around her wrist, when suddenly she took to the skies, rising far above the clouds and vanishing beyond the horizon. Kefka stared at the empty space between heaven and earth, taking a moment to process what had happened. He was close, after what felt like decades apart he'd been close enough to feel her skin, to watch the wind play across her face, caressing the soft strands of violet hair that flowed past her shoulders. But in the end it had been nothing but a moment, a solitary shard of time that crumbled before he had a chance to hold it in his hand.

He felt the world disintegrate beneath his feet, and he screamed, her name carrying across the snow covered mountains. How was it that she always managed to elude him? His sweet little girl, escaping time and time again, fleeing from his dreams just as quickly as she did in waking life. Her name was still echoing through the canyon when Sabin, Cyan and Gau arrived, bringing with them a number of guards from the village.

Kefka stood up and looked around, but none of these faces looked familiar. He couldn't think, he couldn't see beyond her and the fact that she had escaped. His fingers tangled in his hair, screaming as he ripped the delicate plumage from his hairband. The Returners held their ground, surrounding him and waiting for him to make a move, but Kefka had no desire to continue the battle. He thrust his arms out at his sides, conjuring a wall of flames that sent the Returners running for cover. It was enough for him to escape, fleeing the scene as he went in search of his precious toy.


	43. Paint The Pictures

His steps faltered as he made his way across the snow, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He didn't know where he was going, and by now he didn't care. He didn't even feel the gash in his leg until he was on the verge of collapse.

He'd gone to Narshe with hopes of reclaiming his sacred doll, the most priceless treasure since the dawn of time when magic first entered the world. And if all went well, he could snatch the frozen Esper from the mountain, taking them both and leaving only destruction in his wake. But all of that was gone. His sweet magic user had flown away like a bird upon the wind. Though long about now he shouldn't be surprised. Since when had this world ever given him the things he wanted most? Life did nothing but take until it robbed you of everything you had, because life doesn't care about you or the things you love. So why should he care? Why should any of this matter?

His sight was swimming as he made it out onto the path, his breath coming in ragged gasps, quicker now, as he left the village behind. When Kefka reached the top of the hill, he collapsed onto his hands and knees, his head down, with long strands of hair framing his face. He stayed like that for several minutes, his shoulders shaking with spasms of uncontrollable laugher. Dear god, there was no humor in it anymore. So why couldn't he stop? Why did he keep laughing when time and time again he'd watched her disappear into the clouds?

The world turned upside down and Kefka found himself on his back in the snow, reaching for the sky as he tried catching the birds he saw fluttering overhead. He continued to laugh as his feathery companions flew this way and that, moving closer while at the same time staying just beyond his reach. It was always like that. They teased him with their presence. She teased him with her presence. And if he didn't know better, he'd say this was a horrible joke they were playing on him for the sake of their own amusement.

And what about that strange little bird over there? The one with green and purple feathers. He knew he'd seen it before, its body suspended in a tank containing bioluminescent fluid. It had been trapped there for a very long time, drifting between the boundaries of unconsciousness and sleep, never fully coming awake, not even when he tapped on the glass and tried getting its attention.

His laughter began to subside, his arms out at his sides as he lay on his back in the snow. He could feel the burning pain that accompanied each breath, his chest aching where Locke had drawn his blade across his pale skin. He inhaled slowly, his lips still twisted in a hideous grin as he gazed into the cloudless blue sky, and felt moisture pooling in the corners of his eyes.

"She's your daughter, isn't she? Yes, she is. I should have known. And now that she's heard your voice, she won't return until she's completed her journey."

The little bird flapped its wings, hovering in the air above Kefka's chest. _"I am grateful,"_  said the bird, speaking directly into his mind with the voice of one who was much older and wiser than he was.  _"She answered the call of her kin, a call that has gone unnoticed for more than a decade, thanks to you, Kefka."_

"Whatever." Kefka waved a hand at him, acting like it was none of his concern. "I could have told her what she was a long time ago. But I don't suppose she would be pleased to know that we were using her father to fuel our machines and weapons."

_"You cared for her, didn't you?"_

"I might have. Everyone says I did. But what does it matter? It's just another example of the futility of it all, those fleeting moments born to die like everything else in this world. They mean nothing. Absolutely nothing. And anyone stupid enough to cling to such sentimentality is lying to themselves." He paused, his gaze shifting from the bird on the wind to the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. "This world is full of foolish dreamers. So many people dreaming away their meaningless lives, running like rats in a maze."

_"But you cared about her, Kefka. You cared enough to protect her from the truth because you didn't want to hurt her."_

"Yeah?" Kefka raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with anger and disgust. "It did me a lot of good, didn't it? They said she respected me, that she looked up to me as though I were her brother. But even though I protected her from knowing the truth, from seeing me for what I really am and knowing that the empire is a miserable hell hole teeming with liars, idiots and incompetent morons, it didn't stop her from discovering the truth on her own. It didn't stop me from losing my mind and my memories. All it did was delay the inevitable, prolonging it to the point where I was unable to save her or myself."

Kefka sighed, his strength failing as his eyes began to close. He'd only used a fraction of the power he possessed, and yet he felt completely exhausted.

"That's how I learned that all of this is pointless," he said, a tired smile tugging on the corners of his lips. "We live and we struggle and we die, and for what end? I gave everything I had for her, and in the end I'm left with nothing."

He closed his eyes, letting sleep wash over him as the sun continued to rise above the mountains. It wasn't long until the remaining soldiers found him lying in the snow. They carefully lifted him off the ground and helped walk him back to their campsite. From there they would return to South Figaro, then back home to Vector if they received no further instructions from the Emperor.

\----------------

While the Imperial soldiers made their way across the frozen fields, the Returners were making slow progress down the mountain, with Celes in the lead followed closely by the remaining half of their group. They each had their thoughts and worries about Terra, which they discussed in hushed tones as they made their way down the path. However Celes was the only one who refused to speak. She preferred to keep quiet, her stoic mask in place as she marched ahead of the group.

"Careful now. We don't want to make his injuries worse."

A voice drew his attention, and Edgar looked back to see Sabin and Cyan carrying Locke on a makeshift stretcher. The thief survived, thanks to some quick thinking and a bit of healing magic from Celes. Though it would be several hours before he regained consciousness, his body weakened from a combination of pain and blood loss.

A heavy sigh slipped past his lips, his gaze drifting towards the young lady at the front of the group. "Celes," said Edgar, not sure if she was even listening. "There is something I wish to say. If you would only give me a moment of your time - "

He was cut off in midsentence, coming to an abrupt halt as she stopped in front of him, her long hair whipping about her face as she spun around.

"What is it now?" she asked, glaring at him from across the frozen hillside.

"I want to thank you for your help. You see, Locke is a very close friend of mine who, unfortunately, has a habit of getting in over his head sometimes. Usually because of some woman he's trying to protect, or some foolish stunt he pulls while treasure hunting."

"Really?" Celes deadpanned, a hint of irritation in her voice. "Then I suggest you keep a close watch on your friend, because I might not always be here to save him."

She turned on heel and headed down the mountain, leaving them behind as she made for the mayor's house in Narshe. Edgar was left staring at her, his mouth slightly open with the cold wind whipping his cloak out behind him. This woman was like nothing he'd ever seen before, and had to be treated with the utmost respect, for she could choose to end someone's life just as easily as she could save it.

\-------------------

Kefka returned to Vector shortly before noon, his cloak trailing behind him like the broken wings of a dove. The soldiers scattered like roaches when they heard him coming, with only a few staying behind to listen to his conversation with the Emperor.

One by one their heads turned, looking and listening, waiting for him to launch into one of his profanity laced fits of rage. But instead of making a fuss, Kefka was unusually quiet, his thoughts elsewhere as he listened to the Emperor going on about how disappointed he was that his mage had failed him.

But there was more than disappointment lacing his tone as he yelled at Kefka for failing his mission. There was an undertone of surprise, because he never expected to see him return home empty handed. It was present in his voice as well as on his face, his eyebrows raising towards his hairline until they were all but lost in his mane of graying hair. Kefka heard him pause, his blood beginning to boil as this ignorant old man struggled to grasp the concept that his perfect soldier wasn't as perfect as he thought. Of course he wasn't as good as little miss glitter blizzard. That had been made painfully obvious years ago when she breezed through the infusion process like it was nothing.

There was nothing he could do but grin and bear it, his thoughts wandering over the various ways in which he could kill this old man. He imagined Gestahl with a noose around his neck, his throat slashed with the blade he kept hidden in his left boot. It took all of his remaining strength not to fly across the room and drive his dagger into Gestahl's belly. And all the while nothing was ever said about Terra, his sweet magic user who could be halfway across the globe by now.

Kefka returned to his living quarters, with silence surrounding him the moment he closed the door and looked upon the empty mantle above the fireplace. His feet carried him across the room where his fingers found the layer of dust that had formed on the mantle. When he looked at his hand he felt nothing but confusion, his eyes wide as he stared at the dust on his fingertips. How was it possible that enough time had passed for dust to accumulate on the mantle? And these patches where the surface was clean, they baffled him more than anything else, because it meant that something was here. Something that had been removed a long time ago.

His gaze drifted towards the hall, and suddenly he remembered why he was here. He was looking for the letters he had written. They were here somewhere, buried beneath the dust that had somehow managed to accumulate on their belongings. Or, to be more specific, they were buried beneath the assorted items she kept hidden under the bed. He didn't know how this minute detail managed to survive the mind numbing side effects of the infusions, but he was able to recall finding the box during a fit of house cleaning.

He made his way towards her bedroom, moving slowly across the hardwood floor. Each step brought him closer to the past, with echoes of laughter drifting down the hall. It was her voice, always her voice, that sweet melody calling him home when he lost himself in the forest of his mind. She was his salvation, the voice of reason, the voice of innocence and hope. And when he looked he thought he saw her, laughing as she ran ahead of him, her transparent form vanishing into thin air as he neared her bedroom.

He didn't know what he hoped to find as he entered her room and knelt beside the bed. Maybe he would uncover a part of himself that he'd left behind, or an explanation for why she was ever with him in the first place. Who knows? There could even be clues to where she'd gone now that she'd discovered her true form.

Kefka's brightly colored plumage brushed against the underside of the mattress, his hands searching the darkness beneath the bed until he found what he was looking for. He grunted and shifted to the side, dragging the shoebox out from under the bed. It was much bigger than he remembered, with colorful swirls and spots on the lid. When he opened the box he found a stack of letters held together with string, a photo album, and a velvet drawstring bag. A page from one of his coloring books had been tucked in the corner of the box, neatly folded and set aside for later.

"What is this?" he whispered, his fingers finding the stack of letters and closing around the knotted string. Kefka pulled the string, untying the knot and sifting through the stack of envelopes. "These are mine?" he said, the words sounding more like a question than a statement. He removed a letter from its faded envelope, then sat down on the floor and began to read.

Kefka read one letter and then the next, his mind struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. He traced the letters on the paper with his fingertips before bringing them to his temple as sharp pain pierced the area above his right eye. He knew these words were not his own. They had been written by someone else in the days before he lost his mind, and seeing them now did nothing but increase the dull, persistent ache that pulsed in time with the rhythm of his heart.

A hiss of pain slithered past his lips, jaws clenched as one hand gripped the rug beneath his feet, the other holding his head as he leaned toward. He was practically doubled over when a sudden flash of memory illuminated the darkness of his mind, and he saw himself lying on the floor surrounded by shards of glass that reflected the broken image of the man he used to be. But he was not alone. There was a voice, a gentle voice that spoke to him as a pair of hands worked to carefully remove the glass embedded in his skin.

_"I'm sorry," Kefka whispered, his words broken by harsh sobs. He didn't even remember how he ended up like this, before all the world came crashing down and he saw himself beside her, with rivulets of blood cascading down his fingers._

These images left him shaking, his nails digging into his scalp as he sat there staring at the floor. And still the voices continued, echoing inside his head as the scene played out before his eyes.

_"I'm so sorry, Terra." He reached to touch her face, his fingers marring her delicate flesh with scarlet stains. "I've been changing without you... Growing into something that I hate."_

_"Please don't say that. It's going to be alright."_

" _No, it won't." He inhaled sharply, sniffling and shaking his head. "I'm a monster," he said slowly. "I'm exactly what they want me to be, and nothing is ever going to change that."_

_It hurt him to say these words, to look at her and see fear in her eyes, knowing that he was responsible for all the pain she had suffered. He didn't want to hurt her, he never wanted her to be afraid. But how could he save her from the monster he'd become when he couldn't even save himself?_

"She doesn't care about me anymore," he murmured, his eyes rolling towards the shoebox filled with remnants from the past. "When did I become the person that she hates?"

He glared at the photo album, looking at it with such intensity that it was a wonder the book didn't spontaneously burst into flames. The memories he'd been shown gradually started to fade, pushed aside as a lingering sense of betrayal began to fester in his mind. Maybe she cared about him, once, in a world far away. But what did he ever do wrong when all his time and energy had been devoted to one singular purpose. Sure, he had his moments every now and then. God knows he wasn't perfect. And he himself was the closest thing on earth to an actual living, breathing deity, so he should know. Of course he did. But this, all of this, he did it all for her. And this was how she chose to repay him, by changing into her alternate form and abandoning him atop the frozen hills of Narshe.

His gaze lingered on the photo album for quite some time, his rage quietly building, boiling his blood with every minute that passed. It wasn't until his childish curiosity got the better of him that he reached for the photo album and set it on his lap, his eyes landing on a picture of Terra sitting in a field, surrounded by lush, green grass, patches of clover, and an assortment of bushy weeds flourishing in the summer sunlight.

Her lips parted in a smile, her cloak spilling past her shoulders and trailing across the ground. She looked so happy, smiling in a way he hadn't seen in years. It was enough to calm the fires burning in his blood, his shoulders sinking as he visibly relaxed.

The next picture was a close up of Terra holding a purple flower, still smiling as she admired the delicate blossom. Other pictures showed her standing by a river or reclining in the shade beneath a cluster of oak trees. But the one that stood out was a picture of Terra reaching for the camera as though she were beckoning him towards her.

Kefka touched the picture of her reaching for the camera, wishing with all his heart that he could take her by the hand and pull her from the photograph. He longed to feel her touch, to feel the peace and comfort that he knew before losing his doll to the sands of Doma. He thought these images would soothe his mind the way his doll had helped quiet the voices in his head. And yet seeing these pictures made his diseased mind spin in circles, with confusion and paranoia settling over his thoughts like a dense fog.

These photographs painted a picture of a life he hadn't lived, showing places he'd never been, emotions he didn't feel, and moments he couldn't recall. He didn't understand how someone could take pictures of them together when he was sure they'd never visited such a place. And yet he knew her. He would always know her. But to what extent? Was she hiding her hatred beneath the smile that blossomed on her lips? Did her tears conceal the fact that she was disgusted by what he'd become?

He looked back at the shoebox and saw another photograph, one that had been framed and placed beneath the objects in the box. It was a picture of them in the fields beyond Vector, surrounded by trees and flowers, his arms around her as they posed for the camera. There was a pause, just long enough for him to draw breath, before he screamed and threw the picture frame at the wall where it shattered in a dozen pieces.

How could she do this to him? After everything he'd done for her, building the crown that would ensure her safety by keeping her close to him. He truly believed that he was the only one who could protect her from the evils in this world. And where was she now? Probably halfway across the globe, cavorting with a bunch of animals in the wild.

And then it hit him. Those animals, those unintelligent beings who spawned the magic that created her, they were the ones responsible for her disappearance. He knew that she could hear them just as well as he did, their voices silenced the moment he placed the crown atop her pretty little head. It wasn't until the crown was removed that she could hear them calling from within the mountains east of Vector. But the one whose voice rose above the others was the voice of Ramuh, an Esper who escaped the laboratory when Terra was still a child. He was able to reach out better than the others because he inhabited the same world in which she lived. And so she followed him to the town of Zozo, believing that his voice would lead her home.

Kefka stood up slowly, his mind still processing this important piece of information. He picked up the shoebox filled with photographs and memories, taking everything to his room and depositing them on his bed, then stormed out of his living quarters with a handful of letters clenched in his fist.


	44. Shards of Magic

 

The sound of footsteps reverberated off the cold, steel walls, echoing in the silence that filled the room. Those that were still conscious of their surroundings began to stir, their eyes opening as they attempted to locate the source of the disturbance.

A young male by the name of Ifrit was the first to awaken, his eyes searching the darkness for signs of movement. There was little he could see beyond the circle of light that shone from above, his vision limited to no more than eight feet in either direction. Beyond that the room was dark, the forgotten corridors filled with dust and cobwebs. Every now and then someone would look in on them, checking to see if they were still breathing and churning out magic. But the majority of their time was spent in isolation, with days passing between visits from the outside world.

Nutrition came in the form of an IV inserted under his skin, with various wires and electrodes used to monitor his vital signs. An oxygen mask had been placed over his mouth and nose, supplying fresh air to those imprisoned in the fluid filled containment vessels. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep him alive, his frail body barely clinging to life as magic was forcefully removed through a series of tubes implanted in his neck, directly below the base of his skull.

For years they had been held captive in the Magitek Research Facility, their bodies wasting away with the slow passage of time. Ifrit was one of the more fortunate Espers who, despite his imprisonment in this liquid tomb, was able to tolerate the process better than his companions. And now that he was awake, he began moving, little by little, until he'd managed to turn his head in the direction of his sister's containment vessel. She too had been one of the lucky ones, surviving long after their fellow Espers had succumbed to death. But the hour was late, their strength waning as the last ounce of magic was drained from their bodies. It was only a matter of time before they joined the others in the burial ground that was the empire's garbage dump.

His attention drifted towards the hall as the sound of a door being slammed roused the Esper in the adjacent tank. Shiva stirred, groaning as she opened her eyes. Ifrit glanced towards the door, then back at her, praying that she would be quiet. They didn't need to draw attention to themselves.

A fist made contact with the glass, startling the Esper who recoiled in horror at the sight before him.

There stood Kefka, grasping a handful of letters in his fist. His face was contorted with rage, flecks of saliva flying from his lips as he struck the vessel and screamed, "Do you see this? This is all I have left after you and your miserable little cohorts stole her from me. It's your fault! It's all your fault!"

Ifrit backed away, leaning against the inside of the tank as Kefka continued to scream and curse. He'd seen the clownish mage when he was throwing a fit over one thing or another, but this was like nothing he'd seen before. This was a full blown tantrum, with Kefka wailing and beating on the glass like a misbehaving two year old.

"You're responsible for this. She left me because of you... And you and you and you and you and you!" Kefka screeched, pointing at each of the Espers, most of whom were completely unaware of his presence.

He was seized by an uncontrollable fit of laughter, stumbling backwards as the letters fell to the floor. His fingers tangled in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as Ifrit continued to stare at him. "Of course," Kefka whispered, his eyes wide, staring at the space between them. "I should have known. I should have seen this coming. She's one of them. Of course she's going to leave me for one of her own kind."

He punched the button on the side of the tank, causing the fluid to drain from the containment vessel. These bastards were going to pay for what they'd done. It was bad enough that their voices haunted him night and day, tormenting him to the point where sleep was next to impossible. But when they started interfering in his relationship with Terra, he decided it was time to teach these fools a lesson.

The letters were forgotten as Kefka reached inside the tank, grasping the unfortunate creature and throwing him against the wall. A metallic thud punctuated the blow, blood spattering the walls and running in scarlet streams where it pooled on the floor. When Shiva saw what was happening, she started pounding on the glass, yelling at him to stop. Kefka slowly lifted his head, his lips drawn back in a fierce snarl. He thrust his hand towards the tank, causing the glass to explode as water gushed out onto the floor.

Shiva gasped, her lungs filling with fluid as the mask was torn from her face. Cords and wires snapped, needles broke, their jagged edges still embedded in her skin, and she tumbled out of the tank, her broken body coming to rest amid the shards of glass that lay strewn across the floor.

"Shiva!" Ifrit cried, his hand trembling as he reached for his fallen sister. "Shiva, no!" His words dissolved into agonized screams as a sudden jolt of electricity surged through his body, causing him to seize up on the floor.

Kefka's maniacal laughter echoed off the walls, lightning flowing from his fingertips as he watched the Esper twisting and writhing like a worm impaled on the end of a hook. Foam dribbled past Ifrit's lips, his chest heaving as he struggled to draw air into his lungs. But the pint sized jester wasn't through with him. He climbed atop the fallen Esper, giggling as he plunged his nails into Ifrit's chest, piercing his flesh as easily as a ripe tomato. "I'm a god! I'm all-powerful!" Kefka screeched, cackling as black tendrils of smoke rose into the air. He poured his energy into the dying Esper, charring the ragged edges of his wounds with searing levels of heat and electricity. "I'll collect more Espers... I'll extract their magic... And then... Then... I'll revive the Warring Triad!"

The lights flickered overhead, the fluorescent bulbs exploding in a shower of sparks as Ifrit gave one final jerk before losing consciousness. Kefka grinned, pulling his fingers from the charred mass of flesh before spitting in the creature's face. He looked back at Shiva, who was coughing and gasping in an attempt to clear the fluid from her lungs, then shifted slightly and slid onto the floor. If it weren't for the fact that the remaining Espers still had something to offer in terms of fueling the empire's weapons and machines, he would kill every last one of them, right here, right now, on this very spot. But these two were of no use to him, and it was better to dispose of them than to watch them linger in confinement.

Kefka raised his right hand, levitating Ifrit off the floor with a single motion. "I've already drained all your powers. You're useless to me now, and there's no fun in playing with a broken toy." His hand jerked as though throwing a dagger, and the unconscious Esper was sent soaring through the air where he landed on a conveyor belt. "You too!" said Kefka, his lavish cloak swirling about his heels as he spun around and lifted Shiva off the floor. "Take a hike!"

Shiva screamed as she went flying towards the wall, the force of impact driving the glass shards further into her skin. She lay in a heap on the conveyor belt next to her brother, her fingers twitching as she attempted to find him in the dark. She was able to reach out, her hand closing around his, right before Kefka flicked a switch and sent them on a one way trip to the palace dump.

\-------------

It was dark when he opened his eyes, a single pinprick of light shining overhead, giving him an idea of how far they'd fallen. The air was stale, filled with the warm stench of rotten garbage and decaying flesh. He gagged when the horrific stench reached his nose, and felt pain lance his chest with each convulsive movement.

"I... Ifrit?"

A voice speaking from somewhere close by, followed by a soft whimper.

"Shiva." Ifrit struggled to force himself to his feet, his strength failing as he fell forward onto his hands and knees. "I'm coming, Shiva. Don't move. I'm here for you."

Ifrit started dragging himself across the floor, the mounds of garbage shifting beneath his weight as he clawed his way towards his sister. He could hear the sound of broken bones scraping against the floor, accompanied by the soft whisper of garbage bags rustling in the dark. Glass bottles clinked as he climbed over of the mountainous pile of trash, with tin cans shifting and moving against wet pieces of cardboard. He was halfway across the room when he heard his sister's voice, and he paused, listening intently as she spoke.

"Ifrit, don't... There's someone else down here." A pause, silence stretching between as she gazed into the darkness. "I sense a kindred spirit," she whispered. "It feels familiar. Like... Like an old friend." A faint smile tugged on the corners of her lips. "Maybe he's come back to rescue us."

"No, that isn't possible. Ramuh knows he'll be captured if he tries to enter the building. Captured or killed if that freak gets a hold of him." Ifrit lifted his head, his eyes scanning the room for signs of movement. "Wait." He drew back, moving closer to his fallen sibling. "I think I see something."

"Is it him, Ifrit?" Shiva asked, her voice low and groggy. "Has he come back to rescue us?"

"I cannot be certain. I know that what I'm feeling is Ramuh's magical signature, but there are other ways for him to present himself."

The Espers huddled together on the floor, watching as a group of people emerged from the darkness.

The first was a woman with long blond hair, her sword glinting in the pale shaft of light that fell across her face. A young man was standing next to her, his messy hair held back with a faded bandana. Next to him was a man whose regal appearance made him look out of place in this festering pile of rubbish. But it was the second man, the one with the silken cloak and braided hair, that came forward to speak with them.

The blond man held out his hand, revealing a large piece of crystal that shone with a pulsating inner light. Ifrit's eyes widened as he reached towards the glowing shard. His sister covered her mouth with her hand, muffling the gasp that slid past her lips. She looked at her brother and felt tears welling in the corners of her eyes. They knew what this meant, that their brother was no more, and that he had chosen to give his strength to this group of people.

"How did you come by this?" Ifrit queried, his fingers brushing against the rough surface of the jagged stone. "Espers do not deliver their gifts to those they deem unworthy. You must be chosen. You must have done something in order to receive this."

"How can you be certain?" Shiva hissed. "We do not know if they murdered our brother in cold blood."

"They did not, Shiva," he stated calmly. "For the energy within is at peace."

Edgar sighed heavily. It wasn't easy to approach someone and tell them that their brother had chosen to sacrifice his life for them. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said, carefully choosing his words so as not to offend or upset this magnificent creature. "Your brother blessed us with his strength in hopes that it might put an end to this terrible war. We did not take his life. This was his choice, not ours."

"I see." Ifrit looked at the young lady standing next to the King and his ragged companion. "Do my eyes deceive me, or is that the General of the Imperial army?"

"Former General," Celes corrected him. "I'm with them now." She nodded torwards the young men accompanying her. "They needed someone to show them the way through Vector. And since I'm the only one who is capable of finding my way without getting lost or dismembered by every guard in the palace, I decided to lend a hand."

Locke rolled his eyes but wouldn't comment on what she'd said.

A small smile graced the corners of his lips. "You were always different from the rest," he murmured, wincing as he felt another sharp stab of pain pierce the area above his heart. "You refused my gift because you saw how Kefka had abused it, and now you've decided to befriend the opposition in hopes of ending the war. And yet I can't help wondering why you're here." He looked at Edgar and Locke, his eyes shining with curiosity. "Why did you decide to follow us into this miserable pit filled with vermin and disease?"

"We're trying to help our friend," said Locke, who had been observing them from afar during the conversation. He was in awe of these noble creatures, creatures that had survived for hundreds of years, only to be locked away and discarded when their magic had run out. It seemed impossible that such beings could be treated like objects, held prisoner against their will and forced to fuel the fire that was spreading throughout the land.

"She's like you," Locke continued. "Or something like you. We haven't figured it out yet. But when we found her, Ramuh told us that she lost control of her magic. He called her when he felt her lose control, and has been caring for her ever since. He said that we should go to Vector, stating that the Espers would lend us their power, and that being around her dad would help her recover."

The injured Esper turned to his sister, who nodded before looking back at them. "I can see why Ramuh entrusted you with his power. You have a good heart, and you care deeply about your friend. If Ramuh was willing to give you his strength, then we shall do the same."

The air was shimmering with iridescent bands of light as his voice trailed off into silence. He was ready to embrace the endless sleep that awaited him after death, his mind at ease knowing that his sacrfice wouldn't be for nothing, and that he still had a purpose in this world.

Celes came forward, sheathing her sword as she stepped over the bags of garbage strewn across the floor. "Wait. I want to know how you do it." She hesitated for a fraction of a second, her thoughts drifting towards the graveyard Cid made for the Espers that perished during the early days of his experiments. "There were Espers that died a long time ago when Cid first started experimenting on your people. And yet he didn't find any trace of magicite left behind when they died."

"That is because we choose who we give our magic to. We have the ability to reabsorb the magic in our blood, much like rabbits are able to reabsorb fertilized embryos when they are not ready to bear young. Doing so prevents our abilities from falling into the wrong hands." Ifrit took a deep breath, the light growing stronger as he continued to speak. "Those who died in captivity reabsorbed their magic, leaving only flesh and bone instead of magicite. But if an Esper dies suddenly, such as when they are slaughtered in battle, they will instantly become magicite because the reabsorption process takes time."

"There are others who were captured," said Shiva, her body surrounded by a halo of light. "They are running out of time. But if you can reach them before they breathe their last breath, I'm certain they will lend you their strength."

Shiva held her brother's hand, tears streaming down her face as she bid him farwell. Ifrit forced a smile on his face, embracing his sister as his body turned to stone. Cracks appeared in the surface of his skin, spreading from his lips and eyes down the sides of his neck and chest. Light poured from these deepening fissures, until all at once a blinding flash lit the room. The dazzling display of light faded in an instant, leaving behind two glowing pieces of magicite side by side on the floor.

Locke was first to approach the glowing shards of crystal. His lips parted, but not a single sound emerged, as he reached for the at stone that had once been a living, breathing Esper. He turned it over in his hands, watching as a crimson light radiated from the core of this emerald green stone. This inner light was the heart of the Esper that made it, pulsing with a slow, steady rhythm that mirrored the creature's heartbeat.

"This has to stop." Locke swallowed hard, then turned to face his friends. "What kind of world is this when Espers are forced to kill themselves? How bad has it gotten if this," he held up the glowing crystal, "is our only hope for stopping the empire?"

Celes averted her gaze, looking down at the floor as Locke continued to speak. She felt guilty for having been a part of this, for choosing the path that lead her to become part of this senseless war. Everything that she had done since gaining the ability to use magic had been for the empire, for a country that was reaching towards world domination. She thought that she could rise above them by avoiding the kind of mass destruction that Kefka caused, but in reality she was no better than he was.

When she looked up Locke was on the other side of the room, digging through mounds of garbage that was blocking the exit. Edgar wasn't far behind, but had stopped halfway across the room and called to her.

"Celes!" He motioned for her to come forward. "Come on. If we stay too long in this stinking garbage bin, those remaining Espers might be dead before we reach them."

The former General huffed out an irritated sigh. There was no sense in dwelling on the past. It didn't bring back everyone who had died as a result of her actions, nor did it erase the suffering she had caused.

She joined Edgar and together they made their way upstairs, with Celes in the lead as she ran towards the room where the remaining Espers were being held prisoner. They were halfway up the fourth flight of stairs when Locke stopped, his attention focused on an envelope that was lying on the floor.

He stooped to pick up the faded envelope, then glanced at his friends as Edgar and Celes ran ahead of him. This small object had peaked his curiosity, and being the trail worn adventurer that he was, he couldn't let this go without an investigation.

"Locke!" Celes had stopped and was looking back at him. "What are you doing? Come on! We've got to go."

"I found something!" he called out, holding up the battered envelope that, unbeknownst to him, contained one of Kefka's letters to Terra. "Look, there's another one over there. Where do you think they came from?"

Celes rolled her eyes. Her patience was wearing thin, and she was in no mood to deal with Locke and another one of his random treasure quests. She left her place on the stairs, muttering under her breath as she approached the thief and seized him by the wrist. The cold radiating from her skin was enough to cause goosebumps to erupt down the length of his arm, but it wasn't enough to distract him from the name on the envelope as the impatient knight attempted to drag him upstairs.

"Celes, wait." Locke had to practically shove the envelope under her nose to make her stop. "Look. It's addressed to Terra."

"Terra? " Celes looked at the envelope for half a second before snatching it out of his hand. "Let me see that!"

"Sheesh, and I thought you weren't interested in what I'd found." Locke leaned against the railing, his hands in his pockets as the former General glared at him before removing the letter from the envelope. "So what's it say? Anything good?"

There was a long pause, during which Edgar joined them on the steps and attempted to read the letter over her shoulder.

"It's... It's from Kefka," she said and length, her gaze fixated on the signature at the bottom. "He sent this to her. But it doesn't make any sense. Most of it is just illegible nonsense and... Is that blood?"

"We're running out of time," said Edgar. The King put a hand on her shoulder, then nodded towards the staircase. "Bring the letter with you. We can examine it once we're back on the airship."

"Hey, if that thing's from Kefka then I'm gonna nab the rest of them," said Locke. He jerked his thumb towards the hallway branching off from the main staircase. "Meet me back here before you leave, 'kay?"

"Locke, no!" Celes reached for him as he turned and sprinted down the hall, her fingers closing on thin air as the thief sped past, narrowly escaping her icy grip. "That's the way to Kefka's private quarters! If he sees you, you're as good as dead."

"So?" Locke grinned, glancing over his shoulder as he ran down the hall. "Since when do you care about what happens to me? I thought you said you're a former General, not some love starved twit who throws herself at every man she sees."

A bright red flush crept across her face, spreading from her neck to her cheeks. "Fine!" Celes shouted. "Go get yourself killed! See if I care." She stuffed the letter in her pocket, turned on heel and started up the stairs. "Honestly, sometimes I don't know why I bother with him."

She left Edgar standing on the staircase, not bothering to look back as she continued up the stairs. The King hesitated before following her, leaving his companion in favor of going with Celes. He didn't like thought of them being separated, especially when they knew that Kefka was somewhere nearby. But Celes wasn't the sort of person who could be reasoned with, nor could he convince Locke to abandon his reckless quest for treasure when a mysterious, and possibly valuable, object was within reach.


	45. Sacrifice

The letters were scattered throughout the hall, forming a path that lead to Kefka's private quarters. Most of them were crumpled and worn, the envelopes streaked with scarlet stains that resembled drops of blood.

Locke hesitated before picking up the letter, his hand hovering over the faded envelope. The floor creaked behind him, and he quickly turned around, his eyes scanning the hallway before realizing that there was no one there.

There was something strange and unnatural about this place. The artificial lighting, steel floors and metal pipes made it feel as though he were inside a giant machine, one that had taken on some sort of intelligence and become a living, breathing entity. He could feel its pulse thrumming in the wires, the noise and vibration coming together to create a voice that spoke of strength, madness and corruption.

He continued moving along the brightly lit corridor until he reached a door at the end of the hall. "This must be it," he said, gripping the handle while leaning his weight against the steel door.

Sunlight flooded the hallway as the door swung open, revealing a complex structure looming in the distance. He was expecting the sort of room one would usually see at an inn, with a table and chairs, and a nice, soft bed in the corner of the room by the fireplace. Not another building that was part of the palace as a whole.

Locke moved towards the railing that lined the southern parapet, taking a moment to look out at the city far below. To his left a banner was rippling in the wind, its scarlet threads emblazoned with the symbol of the Gestahlian empire. He couldn't imagine living in such a cold, harsh environment, filled with pollution, greed and enough weapons to annihilate the western half of the globe. If this was an example of what magic and technology did to the world, then it was no wonder Celes had left the empire.

He left the balcony and headed back the way he came, moving cautiously as he approached the front door of Kefka's house. From where he was standing he could see that the door had been left open, with another of the crumpled envelopes lying in the doorway. This was the fifth letter he'd found since leaving the factory, and although his instincts warned him not to linger on Kefka's doorstep, his sense of adventure overpowered the rational part of his mind that told him to leave.

What kind of treasure hunter would he be if he abandoned his quest before it was complete? He'd searched the darkest corners of remote caves, fought numerous monsters and stolen relics from even the most secure locations. So why should this be any different?

"Just another quest," he said, a grin spreading across his face he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

His hand slid beneath his vest, removing a knife he had hidden in his belt, and slowly, ever so slowly, he crept across the room and approached the mantle above the fireplace. He couldn't resist the many objects lined up on the mantle, his curiosity getting the better of him as he stopped to look for anything that might be of value.

The objects that drew his attention were a series of figurines, each one made to resemble one of the eight legendary dragons. He reached for the nearest one, turning it over in his hands as he inspected the crystalline sculpture.

"Interesting. Looks like it's made from quartz."

He pocketed the figurine, started towards the staircase, then turned back and snatched a second off the mantle before continuing on his way. When he reached the hall at the top of the stairs, he saw that the door leading to Kefka's bedroom was open, a pale sliver of sunlight spilling through the curtains and into the hallway. He was halfway towards Kefka's room when he stopped dead in his tracks, his lips parting in stunned disbelief as he noticed the multitude of dolls Kefka had amassed over the years.

There were dozens of them, their eyes staring at him from every corner of the room. Some of them were shockingly realistic, with hand stitched clothing and life-like features that made them resemble living beings, while others were nothing more than rag dolls in tattered clothing. These rag dolls were often picked apart by their owner, as evidenced by their missing limbs and singed clothing. Kefka would start by stroking the doll's hair, then slowly running his hand down the front of its dress, smoothing out the wrinkles in the mismatched fabric. A smile would form on his painted face, then came the screams, the sudden surge of energy as he tore at the fabric of its dress, his claws shredding the material before reaching for an arm or a leg.

He was like that with Terra, turning on her in an instant as he went from stroking her hair to screaming and lashing out with his claws. It was worse when she wasn't wearing the slave crown, because then she could feel everything he did to her. She felt pain when he slapped her across the face. She felt fear when he warned her not to move. She didn't know what she had done to deserve this, her whimpers silenced by the fierce look in his eyes.

People were like toys: fragile, easily destroyed by the simplest gesture. Snap their neck or break their bones, like shards of porcelain they came apart, littering the floor of his room. He could do it if he wanted to. He could snap her neck. But she meant so much to him. A plaything yes, but she was his favorite toy.

Kefka's fingers fisted in her hair, feeling her tremble as he pulled her head back. He kept pulling until the back of her head was against his shoulder, forcing her to look at him as he spoke. "An innocent little girl," he whispered, his warm breath caressing the side of her face. "You don't know what it means to be inhuman. If you did, you would see perversion and corruption of the flesh by all means unnatural. By violence, by toxin, by madness." He exhaled slowly, shuddering as he felt the weight of her body against his. "But don't worry. That day will come. And when it does, I will be there." He looked deep into her eyes and whispered, "I will always be there for you."

Locke was oblivious to the goings on in this room. He didn't know about the horrors of her past, how she'd been mistreated and abused by this hideous monster. It was a blessing that she'd forgotten, the slave crown erasing some of the more horrific moments of her past. Some, but not all. There were always traces, like tiny splinters that pricked her skin. Not enough to make her bleed, but it was enough to remind her of the day her innocence died.

The thief failed to suppress a shudder as he glanced at the dolls on the shelf. He moved past them and into the room, not wanting to linger for very long in this doll infested madhouse. He spied a shoebox on the foot of the bed, his curiosity overriding a portion of his anxiety as he lifted the lid and revealed a treasure trove of letters and photographs.

"Jackpot."

He gathered as many of the envelopes and pictures that he could fit in his pockets and quickly exited the room, not bothering to stop and analyze the contents of the photographs. He'd look them over when they were safely aboard the airship. But for now his focus was on escaping and meeting up with the others.

He returned to the last place he saw Edgar and Celes, looking both ways before heading upstairs. He was almost at the top when the lights began to flicker. A low rumble sounded in the distance, and suddenly the room was plunged into darkness as the floor tilted sideways, causing him to lose his balance and fall against the railing.

His breath left him in the form of a pained grunt, the metal railing hitting him in the stomach and knocking the wind out of him. Some feeble attempt at language dribbled past his lips, and he doubled over, groaning as he collapsed onto the floor.

The tremors grew in strength, only to fade as quickly as they began, leaving him to wonder what had caused the sudden earthquake. "Celes," he croaked, gasping as he pushed himself onto his feet. He held onto the railing to maintain his balance, the other hand wrapped around his aching torso as he forced himself up the stairs.

For a minute he was lost in darkness, with nothing but the handrail to guide him on his path. He worried that his friends had encountered Kefka during their quest to reach the Espers, and he quickened his pace, fearing that the worst might have already happened.

"No," he breathed, now running and taking the steps two at a time. "If you did anything... If you hurt her - " His sentence ended abruptly when he reached the top and saw a light shining around the edges of the door.

There was no sound, no voices to indicate what was happening on the other side. He placed his palm against the door, feeling the cold enter his fingertips as he leaned forward, trying to detect even the faintest hint of noise.

A minute passed. The light was growing stronger, the tremors returning and gradually increasing in strength. He was well aware of the fact that Kefka could be waiting for him on the other side, but it was a risk he had to take.

He leaned against the door, wincing as it flew open and light flooded the stairway. Celes gasped and spun around, sword in hand as she prepared to strike. She stopped when she saw it was Locke and not some Imperial soldier coming to arrest them, her hand on her chest as she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Celes!" Locke exclaimed. "Dammit, you scared the crap out of me!" His voice died in his throat as he looked up and saw half a dozen Espers held prisoner inside the containment vessels. Their bodies were surrounded by a field of light that reflected off the surface of the liquid, bathing the walls and ceiling in shimmering waves of light. "What's happening?" He looked at Celes, who lowered her sword and gazed at the floor in silence. "What are they doing? What's going on?"

An Esper in the tank to his left shuddered, its breath rattling as it softly hissed, "You wish to help us... But we haven't long to live."

A second Esper coughed and gasped, the oxygen mask filling with blood as she choked on the fluid in her lungs. She was hemorrhaging from every orifice in her body, her organs shutting down as she prepared to turn herself into magicite. The crimson streams that flowed from her eyes mingled with the tears she shed for her fellow Espers, and for the many lives that had been lost since the war began. She could hear the earth sobbing. She could feel her brothers writhing in pain as the last ounce of magic was drained from their bodies. She was aware of everyone and everything around her, but she was powerless to stop the destruction that was taking place.

Their cries had gone unheard for so long, every desperate whisper and dying murmur falling on deaf ears as the scientists passed them by. And then, after more than a decade of imprisonment, the time had come for them to step into the light, escaping their bonds through the slow release of death.

Celes hesitated before looking up at him, her eyes brimming with tears as both Locke and Edgar turned to look at her. She knew there was nothing she could do to make this right. No words to ease their suffering, no course of action that would allow her to change the past.

One by one the Espers began to scream, their harsh cries formimg a cacophony of sound that caused the glass in the containment vessels to crack. Locke moved towards the door, his knees buckling from the horrendous noise that shattered the silence in the room. Edgar clung to the railing, struggling to remain upright as a violent surge of energy caused the ground to quake beneath his feet. Celes was the only one who came forward, standing in front of the tanks as water seeped through the cracks, spilling onto the floor and cascading over her feet.

Could she have made a difference? Could she have changed their minds before the world dissolved into chaos? This obsession with power had driven them to commit unforgivable acts of cruelty. In the name of progress, in the name of Emperor Gestahl. This was his glorious dream, a vision for a new world where magic infused humans drew strength from the heavens, and used it to obtain world domination.

She swallowed hard, her throat constricting with emotion, emotion she'd been taught to ignore. Kill it, strangle it, cancel it out. Because knights of the Imperial army weren't supposed to think or feel. Their only purpose in life was to obey the empire and kill anyone who opposed them.

"Celes!" Locke reached towards her, running as the cracks lengthened in the glass. He managed to make it halfway across the room before a violent tremor shook the building, causing him to slide across the floor and hit the wall next to the containment vessels.

The blow was enough to leave him stunned, his head and shoulder aching from the force of striking the wall. "Celes, no. No, you can't! Please!" He staggered sideways, his unruly hair escaping his bandana and falling into his face. "Celes!" He screamed her name, but she didn't respond to his frantic cries.

Edgar saw what was happening from his place on the catwalk, but was unable to stop the Espers from escaping. He squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head as an explosion of light filled the room. The force of the explosion sent shockwaves through the building, damaging the machines that lined the wall behind the tanks. Everything within fifteen feet of the explosion had been obliterated by the blast, including the Espers who had sacrificed themselves in order to lend their strength the Returners.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Celes halfway across the room, surrounded by a pool of greenish fluid and shards of broken glass. She was laying on her stomach, her head turned to the side with strands of long, blond hair obscuring her face. Locke's body was draped over her like a beach towel, his clothing singed from the explosion.

Edgar hurried down the steps, maneuvering around the broken glass as he ran towards his friends. Each step sent up a shower of droplets, the greenish liquid soaking through his pants as he continued to run. He didn't know why Celes hadn't tried to escape the explosion, her eyes focused on the Esper in front of her as it howled and thrashed. His only guess was that she'd been mesmerized by the fantastic beast as it breathed its last breaths before dying in the explosion. It never occurred to him that she might want to join them on the other side, her will to live crushed beneath the weight of her past.

Locke groaned and opened his eyes, lifting his head and gazing at his surroundings. He could smell smoke coming from the damaged machines, the stench filling his nostrils and making it hard to breathe. There were exposed wires trailing from the broken tanks, their ragged edges dangerously close to the liquid on floor. He had just started to move when he felt a hand on his back, a second around his arm, holding him steady so he didn't slip in the fluid that had pooled on the floor.

"I swear you're going to get yourself killed one of these days," Edgar muttered, frowning as he helped him to his feet.

"Better me than her." The thief winced and held his side, cursing under his breath as his hand came away with scarlet ribbons trailing from his fingers. "Damn." He looked back at Celes and saw that she hadn't moved. "Hey, do you think she's alright?"

Locke knelt beside her on the floor and carefully eased her onto her back. "Celes," he murmured. "Please be okay. I can't... I can't go through this again..." His voice trailed off into silence, his arms around her as he held her against his chest, hoping against hope she'd survived the explosion.

A moment passed before her eyelids fluttered open, her vision obscured by his unruly mane of hair. She could feel the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck, his heart beating alongside hers in the shadows of the dimly lit room. There was something about the feel of his body against hers that felt strangely soothing, similar perhaps to the way she felt when Dr. Cid held her when she was a child. It made her want to close her eyes and sink into the warmth of his embrace, and yet she couldn't help feeling uncomfortable being this close to someone.

This physical sensation, the feel of hands and the warmth of his breath against her skin, was so foreign to her. She didn't know how to respond to the mixed signals her body was giving her, so she reacted the only way she knew how, by pushing him away and slapping him across the face.

"Haven't I told you to keep your hands to yourself?" she snapped, her words sounding more harsh than she intended.

Locke gaped at her, his hand rubbing the sore spot on his cheek where she had slapped him. "But I... I mean I was only trying to help." He turned to Edgar, giving him a look that begged him to say something, anything, in his defense.

"Come on," said Edgar, motioning towards the tanks at the back of the room. He knew better than to try reasoning with an angry woman, and he certainly wasn't going to attempt it with someone who was capable of freezing the hair off his chest. "We need to collect the magicite and be on our way. There's probably a team of Imperial soldiers heading this way as we speak."

"Soldiers. Right." Locke lowered his hand, taking one last look at Celes before getting to his feet.

He didn't know why she always had to be on guard, acting like someone was stalking her, waiting in the wings for the perfect moment to attack. She'd spent so many years building up the walls around her, avoiding anything and everything that made her human. It was all part of her training, he thought, watching as she turned on heel and marched towards the exit. He thought she would abandon the teachings of the empire when she joined the Returners, but from the looks of things she wasn't going to change anytime soon.


	46. A Glimmer Of Hope

The former General stopped beside the door, her sword drawn as she listened carefully for the sound of footsteps in the hall. The explosion destroyed a portion of the wall, as well as the containment vessels that once held half a dozen Espers. She was certain the noise would attract the attention of the local guards, and probably one or two of Dr. Cid's assistants. What she didn't know was that not everyone in Vector was out to capture her and hang her from the highest building. There were those who cared about her, and those who had their doubts as to whether or not she was truly loyal to the Returners.

Dr. Cid still cared for her as though she were his own flesh and blood. He was proud of her for standing up to the empire. And although he wouldn't admit it, there was a part of him that wanted to go with her when she rebelled against the empire. But he couldn't, due to the fact that he felt responsible for everything that had taken place within the last thirteen years. There was an overwhelming sense of guilt eating away at his conscience, and no matter where he went there was always something there to remind him of what he'd done.

He saw it in the soldiers that had been transformed into Magitek knights, in children that could heal themselves when they fell and got hurt on the playground. Practically everything in and around the city of Vector was brimming with magic. But worst of all was the violence and bloodshed that existed because of his creations. There were men that had been taken from neighboring countries, their families slaughtered before they were hauled off and forced to serve the empire. The death toll was rising, Gestahl's reign of terror was spreading like the plague, and there was Cid, stuck in the middle of everything that was going on. He wasn't the person who started this senseless war, but he had enabled it. He sculpted weapons of mass destruction from the ground up, building devices that hadn't been seen for a thousand years. Without him Gestahl would never have been able to come this far.

His influence on the war made him wonder if it was possible to change the path they were on. It was something he'd considered for quite some time, but had kept to himself for fear of retaliation. And so he passed each day in silence, watching as the world around him dissolved into chaos. Then, after weeks of listening to Kefka spreading rumors that Celes had turned against the empire, the day finally came when Gestahl ordered her to be put to death.

It took a minute for the words to sink in, her fate sealed by the man whose only goal in life was to watch the world burn. The aging scientist took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief, and felt his knees buckle as he began to collapse.

General Leo caught him around the waist, holding him steady as the doctor fell into his arms. "I'm sorry," he said, hoping to ease the pain with a gentle pat on the back. "But I thought it would be best if you heard it from me instead of Kefka."

"No," Cid whispered, trembling as he clung to the General. "No, it can't be true. She's like a daughter. Do you understand?" He swallowed hard, his throat constricting with emotion. "My daughter," he choked out. "My only child. Not by blood, of course. But still - "

"I know," Leo said gently. "I understand, Cid."

"Do you?" he asked, sniffling as tears sprang unhidden from the corners of his eyes. "Do you really know what it's like? Or are you just spewing some sort of sentimental rubbish that Gestahl told you to say?"

Leo shook his head. "You know me better than that. I am loyal to the empire, but that doesn't mean I don't care about the people here." He sighed heavily and took a step back, releasing him and glancing out the window. "You're forgetting that I knew her before you did. I can still recall the days when she was a toddler, trying her best to keep up with the children as she chased them throughout the city."

When he looked back at Cid the doctor had taken a seat at his desk, his head in his hands as he silently wept.

"How did he do it?" Cid muttered, a trickle of mucus dampening the ends of his mustache. "How did Kefka convince the Emperor that she wasn't worthy to serve him? I don't even know why anyone would listen to him."

"He didn't do it alone," said Leo. "Kefka had soldiers who witnessed her treachery and were willing to testify against her."

"And what does that prove?" Cid lowered his hands, looking up at him through red rimmed eyes. "You know how he threatens people in order to get what he wants. More than half the people in Vector are scared to death of him. He even threatened to kill me if I didn't double the amount of energy being drained from the Espers. And now those magnificent creatures are dying twice as fast because of his demands." He sighed heavily. "Sometimes I wonder who's really in charge. Kefka's got everyone so terrified they're afraid to speak up for fear of what he'll do to their friends and family. Gestahl's practically eating out of the palm of his hand, and all we can do is sit back and watch everything go to hell."

"That isn't true. You know as well as I that the Emperor is in control of Kefka."

"Kefka doesn't even have control over himself. So how can anyone possibly tell him what to do?"

Leo shifted slightly, glancing at the floor as he tucked his hands in his pockets. He was at a loss for words, knowing that Cid was right about Kefka having little to no self control.

"Do you know what I think?" asked the doctor. "I think Kefka is delusional. He thinks everyone is trying to prevent him from having contact with Terra. It's possible that he could have misinterpreted Celes' order to send him to Vector while keeping Terra in Narshe. Now, think about it for a moment. There were no reports of Celes' treachery prior to the mission in Narshe. So who's to say he didn't fabricate the story as a means of getting rid of her?"

Leo's eyebrows rose towards his hairline. "Is that so?" he asked, looking both surprised and concerned by this realization. "I've always known him to favor the direct approach, using magic to incinerate anyone who stands in his way. And forgive me for saying this, but I didn't think he was capable of formulating such complex plans. Not with his limited mental capacity."

"The man is dangerous, Leo. Even more so when he puts his mind to something." He sniffed and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. "And as for Celes, well, sometimes I think she's too stubborn for her own good."

Leo winced at the sound of Cid blowing his nose. It sounded like a foghorn warning the ships to steer clear of the rocky shoreline. "If what you're saying is true, then it means an innocent woman is going to be put to death." He was interrupted by another loud honk, and continued before Cid had the opportunity to start blowing his brains out into the faded handkerchief. "I believe there is a chance that what you're saying is true. Though I doubt you could persuade the Emperor to think otherwise."

\---------------

Later that night, when the lights were dimmed and the citizens of Vector were adrift in the land of dreams, Dr. Cid entered the greenhouse, and moved towards the back where his makeshift cemetery was located. He took a seat at the table lined with roses, each one bearing the name of an Esper who had died during the early years of his experiments.

It had been years since he created this lasting monument to the Espers that passed away, and the roses that adorned the flower pots had more than doubled in size. When he looked at them he thought of her and how much she'd grown since they first met. Celes was such a tiny thing, barely able to see over the top of the table. He remembered lifting her up and sitting her on a crate so she could see better, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the colorful flowers on the shelf.

She was so sweet, so innocent and pure. She didn't deserve what the empire had done to her. None of them did. Not Celes, or Terra, or even Kefka. They were all victims of a madman playing Emperor, a cruel, heartless person who didn't care about the lives that were lost because of his foolish dream.

His finger brushed against the scarlet petals, and he felt tears come to his eyes as he remembered how she smiled at him, her face illuminated by the softly shimmering Thamasian rose. It wouldn't be long until her name blossomed among the thorns, the letters written on a cross and placed beside the others. He would take the rose from her room, keeping it safe so Kefka didn't set fire to it during one of his violent outbursts, then clear a space for it and set it on the shelf in his greenhouse. And yet he couldn't bring himself to go to her room and collect the rose. Not yet anyway. Not until he'd received confirmation of her death from one of the Imperial soldiers.

The aging scientist closed his eyes, tears spilling down his cheeks and onto the counter. He knew in his heart that Celes had grown tired of the empire, and that she had talked of leaving for some time. But he couldn't tell them that. Not if he had any hope of keeping her alive. Because despite what Kefka had been saying during the last five years, Dr. Cid still believed in having hope.

\-------------

The doctor kept to himself for the next several days, his thoughts elsewhere as he worked in his greenhouse. He wouldn't set foot inside the palace if he didn't have to, and if he spoke to anyone it was usually Leo.

The days gradually faded into weeks, until finally Kefka returned from Narshe. General Leo stood off to the side, watching as Kefka entered the throne room and approached the Emperor. He could tell by the look in his eyes that something had gone wrong, something that had thrown their plan off kilter. He took a step back, making sure he was a safe distance from the mad jester, and listened as Kefka recalled the events that took place in Narshe.

He was expecting some grand story of how Kefka burned down the village and swiped the Esper from under their noses. Instead he received word that Celes had escaped, joined the Returners, and fought alongside them during the battle for the frozen Esper. It took a while for these words to sink in, his eyes widening as he looked at Gestahl then back at Kefka, waiting for someone to speak up and say this was a joke. But that moment never came, and Kefka was dismissed after receiving a stern lecture from Emperor Gestahl.

A murmur of conversation arose from the guards. They were surprised that Kefka, the strongest knight in all of Vector, had been defeated by this group known as the Returners.

The dark skinned man stepped forward and bowed before the Emperor. "May I be excused, sir?" he asked, his heart racing as he willed himself to remain calm.

Gestahl turned around, his lip curling in disgust as he glared at the young General. He was in no mood to deal with anyone, not after listening to Kefka's report, and quickly dismissed him with a wave of the hand.

"Thank you, sir." Leo stood up and headed towards the exit, moving as quickly as he could without looking suspicious.

Two soldiers were standing near the entrance to the throne room. One of them had his ear against the door, and had been listening as Gestahl lectured Kefka on his performance in Narshe. He fell back as Leo opened the door, tripping over his feet and falling to the floor. General Leo was kind enough to stop and help him up, then continued on his way after making sure the soldier was alright. It wasn't until he was halfway down the hall when he stopped to listen in on the conversation going on behind him.

"Did you see Kefka when he walked in there? He looked like a chocobo that had been kicked to the curb and flattened under a cart."

The soldier on the left snorted. "Marcus, please. If you're going to start that again - "

"No, no, just hear me out. We both know Kefka's a maniac - "

"Shh! Lower you voice!" The soldier looked around anxiously, checking to make sure they were alone before continuing. "Do you want to get us killed?"

"Listen," Marcus whispered, his hand closing around the soldier's arm as he pulled him off to the side. "You know how powerful he is. That man eats fire and shits lightning. So how could he be defeated by those worthless little snots?"

"I don't know. But if you think this has anything to do with the rumor that Celes is spying on the Returners, then you're just as crazy as he is."

Marcus shook his head. "No, I think there's something more to this. I think Celes is spying on them, and Kefka is working with her to make it look convincing. He probably lost the fight on purpose so she could stay there and continue spying on them."

The other soldier rolled his eyes. "Kefka hates Celes. He's not going to cooperate with her. Not unless the Emperor orders him to."

"Kefka hates Leo, too. But that didn't stop them from working together in Doma."

They continued arguing in hushed tones as Leo exited the building, making his way down the path towards the greenhouse. The General was intrigued by their conversation, and made a mental note to ask the doctor if he'd heard anything about this. He couldn't imagine Kefka secretly working with Celes. And even if he was, Kefka probably had an ulterior motive hidden beneath the guise of his ever smiling face.

And then he stopped, realization slowly dawning on him as his fingers found the doorknob, turning it slightly before stepping into the greenhouse. He paused in the doorway, thinking back on all the times he'd seen Kefka spouting death threats and ordering Terra about the palace. It wasn't difficult to imagine him threatening the men in Celes' troop so that they would go around telling everyone that she was a traitor. Kefka could have set his sights on Celes, seeking to use her the same way he used Terra. But why? Why would he do such a thing? What did he hope to gain by helping her spy on the Returners?

"Leo?" Cid looked up from watering his plants. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, everything is fine." There was a brief pause, his mind still working through everything he'd seen during the past few minutes. "Celes is alive," he said at length. "It was confirmed by multiple sources, including an eyewitness who saw her fleeing the scene in the company of an older man."

The watering can slid from his fingers and hit the floor, spilling its contents on the concrete surface. "She's alive?" Cid exclaimed, his tired eyes shining with renewed hope and joy.

"Yes, but there's a matter we need to discuss." Leo stepped inside, making sure to close the door behind him. He didn't want anyone to overhear their conversation. "Apparently there's a rumor going around that I was not aware of. One involving former General Celes."

A knowing smile flitted across his face as Cid stooped to pick up the watering can. "A rumor?" he asked, feigning confusion. "I'm sorry, but I don't know of any rumors circulating through the palace."

It was understandable. Dr. Cid had practically isolated himself during the past few weeks. And after receiving word that his adopted daughter had been sentenced to death, Leo couldn't blame him for being upset. It never occurred to him that Cid might be responsible for starting the rumors.

He explained about the soldiers in the hall, giving him details of their conversation. The doctor listened carefully to what was being said, nodding when he thought it was appropriate but not saying much in general. And all the while Cid's mind was working in overdrive as he tried figuring out where to go from here.

"What do you make of it?" Leo asked, his voice low, brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of this. "You suggested that Kefka lied in order to make it look as though she turned against the empire. Now these people are saying he might be working with her in secret."

"You want to know what I think?" Dr. Cid lifted the watering can and placed it on the table, the remaining water splashing onto the wooden surface. "I think that Kefka plus a dozen armored soldiers and two dozen Magitek knights is a recipe for destruction," he said, his eyes never leaving the General's face as he spoke. "You know what he's become. You know that he is out of his mind and that he doesn't flee from battle like a frightened child. Now I want you to think about that, and you tell me if you think Celes is still loyal to the empire."

Leo inhaled slowly, not realizing that he was holding his breath. There was no denying that what the doctor said was true, and that if Kefka went down he would make sure he took everyone with him. Something must have happened, something that made him call off the fight before he was able to claim the frozen Esper. But Kefka never told them about how he left in search of Terra, only that he and his men had been defeated by the Returners. It left room for doubt, creating opportunities for people to come to their own conclusion about why he left without so much as killing a single person. And in the end Leo could only come to one conclusion: that Kefka had been secretly helping Celes spy on the Returners.

\------------

The rumors continued to circulate through the palace, spreading from the barracks to the armed guards atop the observation tower, until almost everyone had heard the rumor that Celes was spying on the Returners. And while most people were not convinced that she was loyal to the empire, it was enough to create a lingering sense of doubt.

Meanwhile, Dr. Cid had finally left the sanctity of his greenhouse and was headed downstairs to his office. He had just made it through the door and taken a seat when he noticed the glass vibrating on the desk. Pens rolled off the desk, and a picture frame fell off the wall, shattering in the corner of the room. A low rumble sounded in the distance, causing the doctor to look up from his paperwork just in time to see the lights flicker overhead.

He barely had time to register what was happening before an explosion rocked the building. The resulting shockwaves were enough to cause the floor to tilt, sending the doctor sprawling on the floor as the wheeled chair he was sitting in went sliding across the room and into the filing cabinet. A hail of papers spilled from the cabinet, showering him with years of medical records and scientific research.

The aging scientist peeked out from under the avalanche of papers, and felt his heart leap into his throat as he realized that the explosion had come from the Magitek factory.

"Oh no," he whispered hoarsely. "The Espers. Something must be wrong. Something must have happened to them."

Panic gripped his insides, like the claws of some horrendous beast closing around his chest, constricting his airway and making it difficult to breathe. He pushed the papers aside, got to his feet and bolted upstairs, not knowing that his little girl and her group of friends were responsible for the explosion that took out the north wall of the factory.

Celes tightened her grip on her sword, her muscles tense as she listened to the sound of footsteps in the hall. The door was flung open with a resounding bang, the metal striking the copper pipes and steel plates that formed the factory walls. Celes screamed and prepared to drive her blade through the intruder's chest, when suddenly she recognized the figure cowering on the catwalk.

"Grandpa?"

Cid opened his eyes, his hands over his head as he crouched in the corner. He was positively shaking with fright, fearing that he was going to meet his end at the hands of his adopted daughter. But when he heard her speak, when he noticed the gentle tone of voice laced with a hint of surprise, he felt his spirits lift, thinking that maybe there was a chance she would spare him.

The next thing he knew he was caught up in a whirlwind of hair and clothing, her arms around him as thick, flowing strands of blond hair curled around his face and shoulders. She practically lifted him off his feet, a smile blossoming on her lips as she embraced him.

She knew that it was wrong, a tiny voice in the back of her mind warning her not to appear close to him. But after so much time apart, she couldn't resist the urge to embrace him before leaving to continue her journey. For all she knew it could be the last time she'd ever see him. She didn't know that what he was about to say would send her back into the clutches of Emperor Gestahl, and this time there would be no escape.


	47. Consumed By Magic

"Celes," he murmured. "I don't believe it. Is it really you?" He paused, taking a moment to inspect the damage that had been done. "Good lord, what have you done? What happened here?"

Celes shook her head. "I'm sorry, grandpa. We tried to rescue them, but we couldn't make it in time." Her gaze drifted towards the floor, staring at her feet like a child who was in trouble with her parents. "They sacrificed themselves for us, so that we could use their strength in the war against the empire."

The joy he felt quickly began to fade as he realized what had happened. His heart stalled momentarily before plunging into his stomach, his eyes traveling the length of the room, moving from one empty tank to the next. And then he saw it. Something green and glowing, winking at him from the corner of his peripheral vision.

The doctor turned, reaching for the crystal that was teetering on the edge of the catwalk, and felt warmth pooling at the base of spine as his fingers closed around the crystalized lump of magic. "What is this?" he whispered, turning the object over in his hands. "It looks like some sort of gemstone."

"It's magic," Celes replied, her chin lifting slightly so that she could see into his eyes. "Ramuh called it magicite. It's what remains of an Esper after they die."

The doctor stared at her in disbelief. "But how is that possible? We've had Espers die during the experimentation process, and they didn't become magicite."

He gazed at the crystal in his hands, and felt its life force surging through his body, moving from his fingers down into his chest and abdomen. It came with such force that it left him shaking, robbing him of his emotions, shutting down his ability to physically feel the world around him. He wasn't even aware of the breath that entered through his mouth, a shuddering gasp, his nerves on fire with the essence of this magnificent being.

Dr. Cid looked at Celes, and in that moment he felt some sort of understanding. He grasped her hand, his eyes widening in the shadows of the ruined factory, and she nodded, knowing exactly what he meant without the need for words.

The silence ended abruptly when Locke stepped onto the catwalk, his voice shattering the stillness as he shouted, "Celes! What the hell are you doing?"

The doctor's senses returned with a jolt, and suddenly he became aware of himself and his surroundings. He then realized that the ability to use magic was something more than he ever could have imagined. It was more than casting spells and harnessing the elements in battle. It was mindlessness, an altered state of consciousness without need for thought or feeling. It was a driving force that came to life and acted of its own accord. And it was the reason why, after several years of experimentation, Kefka had begun to transform into some otherworldly being. Because once you allowed yourself to be consumed by magic, everything that once defined you as a human being faded from existence.

"Celes," he whispered, his words coming between breathless gasps. "I'm sorry for what I put you through. I didn't know..."

"It's okay." She placed her hand over his, feeling the magic contained within the crystalline shard. "I wasn't affected by it like he was. What he is, and what he's gone through, is something else entirely." She paused, looking deep into his eyes, feeling him shudder at the realization of what he'd done. "I don't even know what he's become. I'm not like him. You know that, grandpa."

"Celes!" Locke called out, taking another step forward. "What are you doing?" He motioned towards the door at the far end of the room. "Come on! We need to get out of here."

The former General took one last look at Dr. Cid. "I'm sorry, grandpa," she said, then turned and started down the stairs. She only managed to make it down three steps before the doctor grabbed her wrist.

"Wait!" he cried, and she turned at once, startled, her long hair swinging. "There is something I must ask you." He swallowed hard, knowing that he only had one chance to get this right. And in order for it to work, he had to do it while she was in the midst of the Returners. "Is it true that you worked your way in amongst the rebels as a spy?" he asked, watching as her eyes widened, a look of horror and disbelief spreading across her face.

"What?!" Edgar nearly dropped the handful of magicite he'd collected from the containment vessels. A single piece escaped onto the catwalk, and as he bent to retrieve the shard of magicite, a second set of footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.

"Grandpa, no!" Celes hissed, trying in vain to yank her wrist out of his grasp. But he refused to let go. He had to keep her there, to bring her back and maybe, just maybe, give her a chance to continue their mission from the safety of the empire.

Locke took a step back, his hand unconsciously tightening around the piece of magicite he'd obtained. It was a protective gesture, his thoughts racing as he tried to understand what he was hearing. He saw her glance over her shoulder at him, a desperate look in her eyes as she called his name. But it was too late. Even the King was looking at her with doubt and confusion, his footsteps moving farther away as he approached the exit on the far side of the room.

The footsteps were growing louder, racing up the stairs. And in the midst of everything that was going on, between the sound of dripping water coupled with the electric hum of dying machines, she thought she heard him. That horrible, insane laughter ringing in her ears as the overhead lights flickered before plunging them into darkness.

Celes was given a glimpse of the intruder before the lights went out, and felt her breathing hitch as she recognized the figure in the doorway. His body had been reduced to a mere silhouette, one pale streak of light shining from down the hall, while all the world before him was bathed in darkness. And all at once the laughter stopped, his eyes moving slowly from one pinprick of light to the next.

He could see them shining like stars in a distant galaxy, their light reaching him across the infinite heavens. Slowly he turned, eyeing the magicite in Cid's hand like a bird of prey. Part of him knew exactly what this was. The voices in his head knew better than to question it. Why should they? Surely they must recognize a kindred spirit. And yet no, no it couldn't be. This was ten times more powerful, no, a thousand times more powerful than what they collected in the laboratory.

For a moment he forgot where he was, his breath leaving him suddenly as Celes drove her fist into his stomach.

"Run!" she shouted, her voice carrying across the darkened room. "I'll hold him off as long as I can, but you must go!" Celes looked back at Kefka, and was surprised to see that he was still standing.

He was nearly bent over double, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking with subdued chuckles as his painted fingers gripped the railing. Anyone else would have fallen to the floor, crumbling in a heap as the wind was driven from their lungs. But not this clown. His mind and body had been comfortably numbed by the magic he'd received. It was the reason why several people had to get involved in order to subdue him during one of his infamous tantrums, a reason that Dr. Cid was just now beginning to understand.

Kefka wrapped his arm around his torso, a hideous grin spreading from ear to ear. "My, that's some punch you've got there," he said, his voice mingling with the sound of backup generators that were starting to whirr and hum. The power continued to build until the lights flickered and came back on, revealing the painted face of Kefka Palazzo.

The clownish mage groaned, pressed his hands to the small of his back and stood up straight. That horrible grin was still plastered on his face as he looked at her and said, "Oh, you delightfully traitorous little whelp! That is so like you. Sneaking in behind enemy lines just to foil their carefully laid plans." He fell back against the railing, howling with laughter that sounded like it wanted to be a screech of pleasure. And yet it was cold, emotionless, the same high pitched cackle that flowed from his lips during the most bizarre and often inappropriate moments.

It took a moment for Kefka to compose himself, and all the while Dr. Cid was slowly sliding down the wall until he sat on the floor with his knees against his chest. He didn't even realize that he was still clutching the shard of magicite, its pale glow highlighting the lines and wrinkles on his face. If he could he would have screamed, but his voice died in his throat the instant the lights came on.

'These Espers,' thought Cid. 'And this... This magicite, this factory. It has to stop. It has to!' He scooted backwards against the wall, staring at Kefka as though he were the most terrifying thing on earth. 'Dear god, I pray that I can make them see reason. Because if I don't, and this madness is allowed to continue, this man is going to kill us all.'

"You tricked us!" exclaimed Locke, his tone laced with anger. "I trusted you! I nearly got myself killed protecting you! And for what? So you could bring all of this back to that freak?"

"Yes, my dear boy, that's exactly what she's going to do,"' Kefka crooned. He turned to the former General. "There's no sense in keeping up the charade. I want you to kill them and bring me those crystals."

There was a pause, her heart beating in her throat as she stared at him, watching him wringing his hands and giggling like a child. Good lord, did that man never shut up? Did he never stop moving? She could feel her fingers close around the hilt of her sword, gripping the blade so hard her knuckles turned white with rage. Celes wanted him dead. She wanted to kill this raving lunatic and silence him once and for all. She didn't know what he was playing at, or why Dr. Cid decided to join him in the act. All she knew was that she'd reached her limit and couldn't stand looking at him anymore.

A scream tore from her chest as she raised her hand, her palm facing outwards as she unleashed a storm of ice and snow. The jester had little time to think as he was swept off his feet and launched into the air from the force of her attack. He then grabbed onto one of the metal pipes that protruded from the wall, flipped over in midair, and landed on top of a massive steel beam that ran across the ceiling.

"My, what a rude missy!" he spat, pulling a face like a misbehaving child. He conjured a ball of fire and hurled it at Celes, only to watch her raise her sword and absorb the flaming projectile. But instead of getting mad Kefka seemed amused by her antics. She was just as feisty as ever. A little spitfire, he thought, squealing with glee and falling over backwards where he hung from the beam like a monkey.

He was still laughing when Celes grit her teeth and conjured a glowing sphere in her left hand. She knew this was going to turn into an all out war between her and Kefka, and that if they fought in close proximity to her friends, one or both of them was liable to get killed in the crossfire. She had to buy some time by distracting this clownish mage for as long as possible. But not here. They had to move somewhere else. And since he was determined to keep her in Vector, Celes decided the palace could use a little redecorating.

"You want me?" she snarled, letting the light grow stronger until a shimmering orb surrounded them. "Fine. You can do whatever you want with me. But leave my friends out of this."

Kefka stopped laughing and sat up straight. He was forced to shield his eyes from the intense glare, raising a hand as he screamed at her to stop whatever it was she was doing. The words had barely left his mouth when both magitek knights vanished without a trace, only to reappear in another part of the palace.

\------------------

The mage hit the floor, landing on his side amid a swath of crimson fabric. He screeched and cursed, claws shredding the curtains as he fought to untangle himself from the plush material. Within seconds the material started to burn, with black tendrils of smoke rising from the scorched fabric as he tore the curtain rod from the wall.

His performance ended with another horrific scream, his rage building to the point where he could hardly see straight. It didn't take much to set him off. And when Kefka looked back at her, finally remembering that he wasn't alone in the room, he didn't see the lovely little girl who'd volunteered to be Cid's guinea pig. What he saw was a person who was as terrifying as she was beautiful.

This was Celes at her worst, her most violent and unpredictable. She had reached her limit, her hair lifting and swirling about her face on a frigid wind that rose from out of nowhere.

She drew her sword, her eyes flashing like shards of ice in the midday sun as she charged at him. Kefka leapt aside, conjuring a whip made from white hot flames. He moved quickly, cocking his right arm back and swinging the whip as she ran at him from the side. The burning whip hissed a path through the air, steam rising from her arm as it wrapped around her pale skin. She fought back without so much as a whimper, taking a blow to the side as laughter exploded from his painted lips. Her breath caught in her chest as he curled the whip around her thigh, and she felt her fingers going numb as the spirit of Shiva awoke from its slumber.

Celes seized the burning whip with her free hand, the air smoking as steam rose from between her fingers. At first Kefka was so astounded by this move that he almost lost his focus. He jerked his hand back, but she wouldn't let go, and with one swift motion she yanked him off his feet.

The mage stumbled, falling forward onto the plush carpet where he lay in a heap on the floor. Celes raised her sword and attempted to plunge it into his chest, only to watch him roll across the floor as her blade pierced the ground at his feet. He ducked to avoid her blade as she slashed at him again, then recast Fire and swung the blazing whip in her direction. This time he managed to wrap his whip around her sword, the energy draining away as it was absorbed into her blade.

The temperature began to drop as the swirling embers vanished into her sword. Celes inhaled sharply, feeling the magic surge through her veins. She could easily lose herself in that feeling the way Kefka often did, and she shuddered as she fought to control her breathing. It was during that moment when Kefka chose to attack, his hand inches from her face as he conjured a ball of fire.

Celes leapt back, barely managing to doge the flaming projectile. She watched him rise more than three feet off the ground, his horrible laughter echoing off the walls as he extended his left arm and unleashed another fireball that rocketed towards her. This action repeated as he brought his left arm back while simultaneously extending the right, each time conjuring a barrage of fireballs at the former General.

Celes was sent running, the floor erupting in flames as a hail of fire struck the ground at her feet. Smoke rose from the burning carpet, clouding her version as she picked up speed, backed into a corner and launched herself off the wall. She thought she could use the smoke for cover and run him through with her blade. But the plan backfired when he saw her coming and sidestepped the attack. A moment later she felt a piercing pain in the small of her back, the room erupting in a flash of light as he struck her from behind. Her sword fell from her grasp, and she hit the floor with a thud, rolling across the carpet and coming to rest beside the burning curtains.

Her vision blurred, smoke filling her nostrils as she lifted her head, desperately searching for her lost weapon. She began to cough violently; it felt like she was suffocating. All she could see when she looked around was smoke and fire, with embers rising towards the vaulted ceiling. And there in the distance was the outline of Kefka's body, the image barely discernable amid the darkened pillars that filled the room.

"You... You son of a bitch," she choked out, eyes watering from the amount of smoke that filled the room. Her strength renewed, Celes clawed her way across the carpet, the flames now spreading down the hall where the sound of footsteps echoed off the cold, steel walls.

They were coming. They were coming and she had to get out, her sword inches away from her trembling fingers as the guards entered the room.

She took a deep breath, her muscles aching, straining as she reached for her Runic sword, only to feel the air exploding from her lungs as Kefka brought the heel of his boot down on her hand. Bones splintered beneath her flesh, some piercing the delicate skin that covered her fingers. The injuries were made worse when Kefka lifted his foot, laughter punctuating the blow as he slammed his foot down a second time.

"What's wrong?" he crooned, gasping dramatically as he flung the back of his hand against his forehead. "Oh dear! I didn't hurt you, did I?" he hissed between his teeth, grinning as he ground her injured hand into the carpet. "Oh, you poor little thing! And now little miss glitter blizzard is all alone, with no uncle Cid to kiss her boo-boo and make it all better."

Her screams transformed into a string of obscenities as the guards surrounded them, pinning her arms behind her back and forcing her to her feet. "Kefka!" she shouted, struggling against the restraints they'd clamped on her wrists. She halted her movements when she felt something tear along the back of her hand, knowing that any action on her part would worsen her injuries. However, it didn't stop her from spitting in his face, right when Kefka was in the middle of performing a sort of on the spot jig in the middle of the room.

She was almost thankful for the guards when he lunged at her, one long arm reaching through the crowd, his bright red fingernails inches away from her face. "Go on then!" she exclaimed suddenly, her eyes flashing dangerously in the firelight. "But you'll have to kill everyone here in order to get to me. And if you do that, they'll ship you out to the mental hospital." She struggled briefly as one of the guards placed the palm of his hand against the back of her head, forcing her head down as loose strands of hair fell forward to frame her face. "Do that again and they'll never let you out," she continued. "And then we'll be rid of you once and for all."

She could just make out the tips of his brightly colored feathers, swaying and bobbing amongst the sea of flames as a guard caught him around the chest and forced him against the wall. He was screaming as they escorted her out of the room, and for one brief moment she felt as though she were reliving the night at the banquet. It made her wonder why - why did Dr. Cid lie about her spying on the Returners? And more importantly, why did Kefka agree to go along with it? Whatever the reason, she would have plenty of time to discuss it with him later, seeing as how she'd just been given a free pass to prison cells in the lower halls of the palace.


	48. Working For Redemption

There was little she could do about the blood that stained her skin, her knuckles bruised and covered in a layer of reddish-brown crust. When she moved, pieces of it flaked off and scattered across the floor. But no matter. She could heal herself and stop the bleeding. She would still look like a mess afterwards, with tangled strands of hair falling forward to conceal the bruises on her face, but least she would have full use of her hand again.

'All the better to strangle him with,' Celes thought, leaning forward and placing the corner of her cloak between her teeth. She tore off a strip of fabric, wrapped it around her hand, then tied it in a knot and brushed the hair out of her face.

Her lips curled in a frown, her eyes still gleaming with cold fury as she scanned the room. Just because she was a prisoner didn't mean she had to act like one. There would be no weeping and moaning, no pitiful pleas for her release. Which was something the guards learned the hard way when they came to check on her, and were greeted with the sight of Celes wielding an icicle like a javelin.

She sat down on the edge of her cot, sunlight streaming through the bars on her window. It would be getting dark soon, and she didn't fancy the thought of spending another night in this miserable city. Of all the places that Kefka could have destroyed, it was a pity he didn't start with Vector. But no, of course not. Kefka wouldn't demolish his home. Not yet anyway. Not until he had one of his episodes and forgot where he was. Which, given his history of violence and mental illness, was entirely possible.

Celes sighed, her thoughts interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. If it was Kefka, she would stick her hand through the bars, seize him by the collar of that ridiculous shirt and bash his brains out on the cell door. She was surprised, and somewhat relieved, to see Cid making his way down the hall. Her relief was short lived, however, when she saw that he was wringing his hands, trembling and looking as though he were on the verge of collapse.

She quickly got to her feet and moved towards him, her pale hands slipping between the bars. "Grandpa, what's wrong? Don't tell me it's Kefka..." Her voice trailed off into silence, the back of her hand brushing against his cheek. If that horrible man had threatened him, or hurt him in any way shape or form, she swore that she would hunt him down and hang him from the highest tower in Vector.

"No," Cid replied, still shaking as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to remain calm. "Not yet anyway. But I'm sure that once he gets his hands on the magicite we recovered, all hell is going to break lose." He took another deep breath and gripped her hand, a look of restless anxiety shining in his eyes. "Listen to me, Celes. There's going to be a meeting in twenty minutes to discuss the events that took place upon your arrival. I've managed to convince them that you're spying on the Returners. Even Kefka has decided to go along with it. Though I'm not sure if Gestahl will believe me."

"I don't understand. Why are you doing this, grandpa?"

"Because I'm trying to keep you alive!" he hissed, speaking quickly for fear of being overheard. He glanced over his shoulder, looking down the darkened hallway before continuing. "When I held that shard... That... That crystal you and your friends uncovered from the ruins of the factory, I felt a terrible power inside of it. And I realized... For once I saw the possibilities, the damage he could do if he were to collect magicite and harness the destructive power of the Espers. That is why I requested a meeting with the Emperor. I'm going to see if I can talk him out of this nonsense. I'm also going to see if can convince him to let you rejoin the military. But I need you to cooperate and say that you were spying on them."

Her eyebrows rose towards her hairline, disappearing in the golden curls that framed her face. "Kefka believes you?"

"Yes, he does." He hesitated before continuing, looking rather uneasy as the subject drifted towards his failed experiment. "Or at least I think he does. One can never be sure when it pertains to him."

"And you don't see anything wrong with that?"

The doctor's mouth opened soundlessly, only to close a second later. His voice abandoned him, his shoulders sinking as her astonished expression turned cold, and she yanked her hand out of his grasp. If she could she would have slapped him across the face, thinking that maybe it would knock some sense into him.

"You know me better than that," she said, speaking in a tone of deathly calm. "You practically raised me, and you know damn well that I'm capable of looking after myself. I was doing fine until you interfered. But you're so desperate to carry out this rescue mission that you're willing to risk everything to get what you want."

"I'm sorry," Cid murmured, his gaze drifting towards the floor. "You have every right to be upset with me. But you have to understand that I only did it because I care about you."

Celes turned away, her arms folded across her chest. "If you cared about me, you would have let me stay with the Returners. I want to stop this ridiculous war just as much as you do. But I'm not going to be of much use if I'm still serving Gestahl."

"That isn't true, Celes." He held the bars with one hand, his other hand reaching towards her. "You can still do some good while you're here. Because if I can convince him to stop the war, then we can work on restoring the balance this country once had. You're willing to work together for peace, aren't you?"

"Yes, grandpa, I am. But do you really believe Gestahl will listen to you? Or that Kefka isn't going to take advantage of the situation? You know that Kefka is completely out of his mind, and that anything he's involved in inevitably leads to someone getting hurt or killed."

Silence stretched between them, and in that moment Cid realized that he had once again made a terrible mistake.

He let go of the bars on the door, and slowly he moved away, his back against the wall as he slid down it to sit on the floor. "I would like to do something right," he said, holding up a single finger on his left hand. "Just once. Because when I look around, I see a multitude of soldiers, machines and weapons that wouldn't exist if it weren't for me. People are dying, and it's all because of my inventions. I don't even know if Gestahl will listen to me. And even if he does, there might be nothing I can do to repair the damage that I've caused. I thought that maybe, if all else fails... If I can't save the world, I could at least save you."

He lowered his head, burying his face in his arms so she wouldn't see the tears that spilled from the corners of his eyes. It wasn't every day that Dr. Cid gave into his emotions, letting his sorrow and regrets consume him as wept in silence beside the door.

Celes came forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up at her, he saw that her features had softened. She wasn't looking at him with anger burning in her bright, blue eyes. She looked more like herself, like the person she was before becoming one of Vector's most powerful Rune Knights. And yet there was always something, like a spark that shone in the center of a dark room, that told him she had changed.

He could see it in the way she moved, the way she spoke when someone said or did something she didn't approve of. She would lash out at people, verbally assaulting them with words that cut deeper than the sword she fought with. She was a wise, strong, beautiful young lady. But she wouldn't raise a hand except in her own defense, and he never saw her needlessly casting spells on innocent people.

"Please don't cry, grandpa," she said softly. It was a voice he hadn't heard in years; a gentle voice she often used in the days before her infusion. "Your research has helped a lot of people. Like the little boy who healed his mother when she fell off the roof. If it weren't for the magic you gave him, his mother would have died. It's because of you that she's still alive."

"That's one example," he muttered, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "I don't see how one person can be enough to make up for the hundreds that have died."

"You're right," she said simply. "It doesn't make up for everything that's happened. But it matters to them because it had a positive effect on their lives. It means that magic can still be used for good. And if I remember correctly, you once said that I was the greatest achievement."

He looked over his shoulder and saw a smile blossoming on her face. That smile was enough to ease the burden on his heart, lifting his spirits and giving him the strength he needed to continue. "Celes," he murmured. "Good heavens, I haven't seen you smile like that in years. And yes, you are my greatest achievement. If I can make something like you, then it means I have done something right."

Celes patted his shoulder. "Come on, grandpa. It's time to stop living in the past and start working towards the future."

Cid groaned, grunting with exertion as he pushed himself onto his feet. His knees ached and his back hurt from leaning against the wall. But he wasn't going to let these every day aches and pains slow him down. Not when he still had to keep up with his little girl. He stood up slowly, then looked back at her and saw the look of determination shining in her eyes. She was his strength, her unwavering spirit pushing him to strive for something better.

"I made this mess, so it's up to me to make things right. But I can't do it without you, Celes." He offered her his hand. "Will you help me?"

Her smile faded, her expression changing to one of uncertainty.

"Please, Celes," he continued. "I know that I was wrong to lie and force you away from your friends. I should have thought about how my actions would effect you and the friends you made."

A minute passed before she reached through the bars and held his hand. "I'll do it," she said, a smile returning to grace the corners of her lips. "I won't leave you to face them on your own. Not after everything you've done for me."

A flicker of hope shone within her eyes, her thoughts drifting back to the days when he had just begun to care for her. He could see it when she looked at him. It were as though a shadow of her former self passed before her eyes, and for one brief moment he saw her as the child she used to be.

"Thank you," he whispered, his throat constricting with emotion. He decided that it didn't matter what sort of hideous scheme Kefka was planning. Because no matter what problem they faced, they would face it together and overcome any obstacle that stood in their path.

\----------------------

The room was silent as Dr. Cid approached the table. All eyes were on the silken bundle in his hands, which had been neatly folded to conceal the object within. But there was no hiding the faint glow which surrounded the fabric, its pale color stained with greenish hues.

Kefka was seated near the head of the table, his eyes wide, staring at the orb of light in Cid's hands. His breathing had slowed but his pulse was racing, his painted lips forming a straight line across his face. He could hear the spirit that was imprisoned within the crystal, its voice speaking to him from across the room. In his mind he saw the Esper emerge from the crystal, looking very much like one of the dolls he played with. Its body was small, a shadow of its former self, with glowing eyes that mirrored the fiery core within the shining stone.

This transparent figure lingered above the silken mass, whispering, always whispering, but he was unable to make out what it was saying. The voices around him grew faint, the world falling away until there was nothing but the Esper, nothing but the voice of power, the voice of chaos and destruction. It made his wings quiver, his heart pounding against his ribs as goosebumps erupted on the surface of his skin. A muscle twitched over his left eye, and Kefka inhaled sharply, not realizing that he'd been holding his breath until he felt the cool rush of air enter his lungs.

"What is it you've brought me?" asked Gestahl, his eyebrows raised as he watched the doctor unwrap the shard of magicite. He failed to notice that his mage appeared to be having a mild seizure. It wasn't until they heard a loud, agonized whine that they looked over and were startled by what they saw.

Kefka was practically crawling across the table, one arm outstretched and reaching towards the magicite. The voices in his head warned him not to get too close, because everything about this precious shard of ancient magic was wrong. Wrong because no human was meant to handle that much power, because even the slightest touch could push him over the edge. But no. No, the voice screamed, assaulting him with a desire so strong it made his body ache, longing for more, longing for the release he sought since the day he sprouted wings. Because no one understood what it was like to be caught in the middle, stuck between man and god. And he would do anything to ascend the ranks and reach his ultimate form.

"Give it to me," he rasped, his high pitched voice reduced to an inhuman growl. His lips drew back in a fierce snarl, his senses tingling as he inched towards the crystalized shard of magic. "I said give it to me! Give me the power of the gods! The power of ultimate destruction!"

"Kefka!" Gestahl shouted. He brought his fist down on the table, and the mage started, shrieking as he flew out of his seat. "What is the matter with you?"

Kefka blinked and looked around in confusion. 'Not here,' a voice whispered from the dark recesses of his mind. And suddenly the voices were falling away, the Esper's spirit retreating into the shadows from whence it came.

"Oh!" His hands found the red and yellow ruff around his neck, fingering the material as he glanced at the Emperor. "I can't help it," Kefka blurted out, his tone rising like an excited child who'd just been offered a shiny new toy. "I'm like a child. I'm like a two year old. You put that little purply-green crystal in front of me and I can't focus!" he exclaimed, bouncing in his seat.

The Emperor sighed and rolled his eyes. He turned to Cid and held out his hand. "Give it to me," he said, a hint of irritation in his voice.

Cid hesitated, glancing at the others who were seated at the table before giving the stone to Gestahl. "That is magicite," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, and heard a series of subdued snickers and giggles coming from the man on his left. "That's what they called it, sir."

"And what exactly is magicite?"

"It's the essence of magic in crystalized form, sir. Except this is a hundred, maybe even a thousand times more powerful than what we collected in the laboratory. Preliminary tests show that a single piece of magicite is enough to power more than a dozen armored soldiers for twenty-four hours. That's more than double the amount of power obtained from previous methods."

"One... One hundred?" Kefka was twitching, his lips curling as a wide grin spread across his painted face. He was practically salivating at the thought of having such a tremendous source of magic.

Kefka listened as Dr. Cid explained about the origins of magicite, where it came from and how it worked. Correction, how he thought it worked. The good doctor didn't know everything yet. How could he? It had been less than a week since little miss glitter blizzard waltzed in here like she owned the place. But oh, how he hoped Cid would give him the pleasure of playing with this shiny new toy. It was such a grand treasure. And if the doctor was correct, he could benefit from the stone's magical properties simply by carrying it with him throughout the day.

This made Kefka think of jewelry: breathtaking rings set with large, shimmering gemstones, necklaces with pendants made from magicite, and earrings that sparkled in the midday sun. He could see it so clearly in his mind, a treasure trove of Espers, each one dying and transforming into fabulous jewelry. Precious gems. The most precious of all! And it was there for the taking if only they could get past that blasted door.

"We need to unlock the sealed gate," said Kefka, his voice interrupting Dr. Cid. Heads turned as he leaned forward in his seat, still twitching and grinning like a mad hare. "I don't care if we have to unload the Guardian and let it burn through there like a field of dry wheat. Because if this is an example of what lies beyond those walls, then we must have it. All of it. There can be no question of its value because this..." He paused, his eyes gleaming in the fluorescent lights. "This is what we need to win the war."

Dr. Cid shifted in his seat, looking from Gestahl to Kefka and back again. "Yes, about the war, sir. I was thinking that maybe we could - "

"Silence." Gestahl held up a hand, cutting him off in midsentence. He turned to Kefka, no longer interested in what the doctor had to say. "Palazzo, I am well aware of the fact that we need to open that infernal gate. What you don't realize is that we already have the key right in the palm of my hand."

"What?" This broke Kefka's train of thought, his attention shifting towards what was being said rather than the magicite that was winking at him from across the table.

"Terra," said Gestahl, and Kefka felt his heart skip a beat at the mention of her name. A hideous smile formed on his lips, one that made him appear older and more sinister, like a hungry vulture perched atop a skeletal tree, eyeing each and every passing creature as he awaited his next meal. "She is the key to opening the sealed gate. If we give her to the Returners, she will eventually lead them to the gate where her kin will respond to her call."

Kefka's spasms worsened as he listened to the Emperor talk of handing Terra over to the Returners. To Gestahl it seemed like a brilliant plan, but Cid had seen that look in his eyes when Kefka started shaking and twitching uncontrollably, and he leaned back in his seat, not knowing whether or not Kefka was about to fly into one of his rages.

"Terra?" Kefka's voice sounded surprisingly small, like a frightened child asking for his mother. A loud snap pierced the silence as he gripped the table hard enough to break the tips his fingernails. "No no no no no! I was this close," he shouted, raising a hand and holding his thumb and forefinger a few centimeters apart. "This close! The Espers are to blame. They're to blame for everything! And if we let her near them, they'll see her as one of their own and then they'll never let her join our world again!"

"You said it yourself, Palazzo," Gestahl reminded him. "You said that Terra will open the gates and release the Espers into our world. At the time I hadn't given it much thought. But after careful consideration, I decided that it is better to sacrifice her for the sake of obtaining a greater source of power."

His lips quivered, a simpering smile spreading from ear to ear as he fought not to laugh. No, Kefka, don't you dare. This isn't funny, he told himself. But oh yes, there she goes. Bye bye. Right out the door as usual.

"Your Highness, please," said Cid, trying to change the subject before Kefka threw one of his legendary tantrums and burned the palace to the ground. "We don't know what sort of reaction the Espers will have when they come through the gate. It could have disastrous results, and I for one think we should put a stop to this before it gets out of hand."

"Christophe?" Gestahl looked to Leo for a second opinion, seeing as how his mage was currently unable to speak.

Leo seemed at a loss for words, his mouth opening though he failed to produce a single sound. Mass slaughter for the greater good of the empire didn't sound like the best decision they could make, and there was always the chance that the Espers would destroy the city before they could lift a finger in their defense.

The Emperor sighed heavily, massaging his temples in an effort to relieve the pain building behind his left eye. "Idiots," he grumbled, his voice dripping with contempt. The scientist didn't support his plans, the General had been rendered speechless, and the only person who seemed interested in harvesting magicite was twitching and babbling about god knows what. "And what of former General Celes?" asked Gestahl. "You said you had some important information regarding her reinstatement in the military, Marquez."

There was still a chance, Cid thought, his hands clasped in front of him on the table. He glanced in Kefka's direction, and felt his heart plummet into the pit of his stomach when he realized that Kefka probably wouldn't be able to help with the story they'd fabricated.

"I'm sure you're well aware of the rumors circulating throughout the palace," he began. "There has been much confusion regarding her loyalty to the empire, and forgive me for not having a more reliable source, but Kefka was able to confirm that she was spying on the Returners."

Gestahl raised an eyebrow and looked at Kefka with mild curiosity etched into the lines of his face. "Is that so?"

The mage, who was rocking back and forth in his seat, his thumbnail clenched between his teeth as he chewed through the layer of polish, nodded vigorously but refused to say a single word.

"I discussed matters with General Leo," Cid continued, his explanation covering everything from their belief that Kefka lied about Celes' treachery in order to get her killed, to the possibility that Kefka mistakingly thought that she was trying to prevent him from seeing Terra. "Look at him," he said, nodding in Kefka's direction. "You know how he gets when he's separated from her."

"Ha!" Kefka's explosive laughter startled the General, who leapt nearly a foot out of his seat. "She wouldn't have gotten close to her if I didn't allow it. She promised me the Esper in return for helping her spy on the Returners," said Kefka, his words coming quickly, his thoughts racing a mile a minute.

It should have been simple. Manipulating people and deceiving them in order to get what he wanted was simple. And if everything went according to plan, Kefka would have his sweet magic user as well as a treasure trove of magicite. But there was that oh so tempting piece of magicite nestled in the Emperor's hands. It was calling him, distracting him with its presence while Kefka struggled to remember what Dr. Cid told him before coming to the meeting.

He wanted everything and he wanted it now, his voice rising in a scream as he launched himself across the table at Gestahl. His fingers found the lump of crystalized magic in the Emperor's hands, and for one second he felt its warmth flowing through his skin before Leo pounced on him, pinning his arms behind his back and forcing him to the floor.

Kefka was still screaming as they escorted him out of the room, the Emperor watching from a safe distance with his lovely little piece of magicite shining beneath his fingers.

"I want to have a talk with him once he settles down," said Gestahl, and when Cid looked at him, he saw a fire in his eyes that mirrored the shimmering flames at the heart of the enchanted stone.

This worried the aging scientist, for he had seen that look before when Kefka was off on one of his murderous rampages. "I'm sorry, sir," he said, pausing to swallow the anxiety that was blossoming in his chest. It felt as though a knot had formed in his throat, his heart beating faster as he looked at Gestahl and watched the old man rise up, looming above him like a gargoyle perched atop a mountain. "He's just a little excited, what with the discovery of magicite and the possibility of gaining more."

"Oh, I know that, Marquez," said Gestahl, the sinister quality of his voice causing the doctor to quake with fear. He appeared to be changing right before his very eyes, empowered by the glowing stone that fueled the madness within. "I know because I can feel it. But you..." he raised a hand, prodding him in the chest with his index finger. "You don't want to do this anymore, do you, Marquez?"

The doctor tried to speak, his efforts failing as he quailed beneath the Emperor's fierce gaze.

"No, I didn't think so," said Gestahl, speaking in a voice of deathly calm. He considered the frightened scientist, his lip curling in disgust as though he were observing some loathsome insect. "Keep in mind that I don't necessarily have to spare her life. And if I hear anything, anything at all about the war or how you don't think we should continue down the path that I have chosen, you're both going to end up a pile of rotting flesh with the buzzards pecking at your entrails. Do I make myself clear, Marquez?"

"Y-yes, sir. I-I uh-understand, your Highness." His words tumbled out without a moment's hesitation, fear driving him to agree with whatever the Emperor said. And although he had gone into this meeting with hopes for making things right, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd somehow made everything worse.


	49. Winds Of Fate

While Celes passed her days in prison, Locke and Edgar fled the city of Vector where they met with an acquaintance who went by the name of Setzer Gabbiani. The infamous gambler decided to join their cause, and had offered them the use of his airship so they could reach the southern continent. But after waiting for nearly an hour, Setzer began to worry that his newfound friends had been captured by the empire.

He left the airship and made his way through the streets of Vector, being careful not to cross paths with the guards that were patrolling the city. There were times when he was forced to hide behind the tapestries that adorned the walls, each one bearing the Gestahlian emblem in bold, red and black colors.

He knew that if they caught him they would arrest him, taking him to prison now and asking questions later. But not today, he thought, smiling in the face of danger as he made his way down the street. The winds of fate had brought him here, and they weren't about to let him down. Not when his adventure had only just begun.

Setzer looked up as he saw the Magitek factory looming in the distance, its shadow falling across his face like the wings of some gigantic bird. It rose higher than any building he'd seen before, with metal turrets and catwalks connecting it to the palace. His mouth opened as he stared at it an awe, then suddenly the ground shook, rocked by the explosion taking place inside the factory.

The explosion knocked him off balance, and he stumbled sideways before falling onto one of the crates stacked outside the building. The blow was enough to drive the wind from his chest, his muscles seizing with terror as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching from the north. His long hair whipped about his face, his head turning sharply as he glanced over his shoulder before ducking out of sight.

Setzer held his breath, waiting and hoping that Lady Luck would bestow upon him some wonderful gift of protection, keeping him safe from the soldiers that roamed the streets. A moment passed before he peered out from behind the crates, catching a glimpse of the thief he met at the opera house. There was a flash of royal blue, of fabric rippling on the wind, and Edgar came to an abrupt halt, colliding with Locke who had stopped in front of the crates.

"Setzer!" Locke exclaimed, his sentence cut short as Edgar caught him around the waist to stop him from falling over.

"So sorry," said Setzer, glancing over his shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed. "I was getting worried. I hadn't heard from you so I thought I'd - " He paused in midsentence, blinking and staring as though he were looking for something. "Weren't there three of you when you went in?" he queried. "Where's Celes?"

Locke was silent, his face falling as his gaze drifted towards ground. He couldn't find the words to explain about what had happened, not when it was still so fresh in his mind.

Edgar placed a hand on his friend's back, urging him forward. "Now's not the time, Setzer," he said, still breathless from running through the palace. He glanced at Setzer before giving Locke a push to keep him moving. "Come on. I'll explain everything on the airship."

Setzer was at a loss for words, his lips parting slightly as he stared at them in disbelief. Surely she hadn't been captured by her former comrades. The odds of her being captured twice in a single day were low, even though she had allowed herself to fall victim to the infamous gambler. But still, the odds weren't in her favor for a second kidnapping.

He followed them onto the airship where he took the wheel and steered them away from the city. They'd barely made it off the ground when it became apparent that they'd overstayed their welcome.

Locke was leaning over the railing when the sirens sounded. He cringed when he heard the noise cutting through the stillness of the late afternoon, then looked back to see a team of soldiers running down the street.

"Ha! Looking for someone?" Locke held up his right hand, grinning and making a rude gesture as they soared above the rooftops. He adjusted his bandana and turned around, coming face to face with Edgar, who was giving him a look that said there was no point putting up a bold front. Not when your best friend knew you well enough to know when you were hurting.

Setzer looked up from the steering wheel. "Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" he asked, looking from Edgar to Locke then back again. "I was kind enough to bring you here. The least you can do is offer me an explanation."

Edgar sighed heavily, then turned to face Setzer. "Our friend," he said slowly, "has been taken by the empire. She left amid allegations of treachery, with Kefka claiming that she'd been spying on us. And though I find it difficult to believe, the news has had a profound impact on my friend."

"Would you just stop?" said Locke, his temper flaring. "I don't want to hear about it, alright? I don't need to know that someone I care about is a traitor. I don't believe it anyway," he added after a moment's hesitation. "It's bullshit. And I don't have time for that right now."

Edgar's gaze drifted to the side, lingering for a moment before lifting his head and nodding in Setzer's direction. "Can you take us to Zozo?" he asked, his somber tone indicating that he too had been effected by their loss. "We've left one of our friends there. She needs our help, and I think we've found what we need to revive her."

There was a pause, the gambler's eyes moving from the majestic king to the solemn thief. "Alright," he said, nodding and turning the steering wheel. The massive airship creaked and groaned, its sails rippling in the wind as it began to change direction. "I'll take you to Zozo. Perhaps we'll have better luck once we're out of this bizarre and unnatural territory," he added thoughtfully, a small smile creasing the corners of his lips.

There was always hope. And if fate didn't allow him to find what he was looking for, he would continue traveling the globe, letting the winds take him where they may, with little thought for the world far below.

"Thank you." Edgar moved to stand beside him. He reached into his pocket and removed one of the shards they'd collected. "Though I should probably prepare you for what you're about to see when we reach our destination," he said, his head down as he turned the shard over in his hands. "I don't think you've ever seen anything like her. And I'm not just saying that because of her pretty face."

"Oh?" Setzer's eyebrows rose towards his hairline, curiosity visible amongst the many scars that had been carved into the features of his face. It looked as though the winds of fate had decided to send him on a grand adventure, and he wasn't the sort of person to turn down an opportunity when it came knocking on his door.

\--------------------

The banister was slick with rain, flowing over patches of rust and peeling paint. Setzer moved slowly and cautiously up the winding staircase, one hand on the railing, the other reaching up and brushing the hair out of his face. When he looked to the sky he saw nothing but clouds, his clothing wet from climbing several flights of stairs in the rain.

"Come on," came Edgar's voice from up ahead. "Not much farther now. Oh, and watch your step. There's some floorboards missing on your left."

Setzer followed them up the last flight of stairs, grateful that they had finally made it to the top of the building. There were times when he didn't think they'd ever reach the top, and had been forced to climb out windows in order to reach neighboring buildings. They continued moving from one building to the next, going as far as they could before having to turn back, climb out another window, then up several flights of stairs before finally reaching their destination.

He placed the palm of his hand on the door, wincing as it swung forward, the hinges squealing in a desperate plea for oil. Edgar and Locke continued moving forward until they reached the bed at the back of the room, but Setzer stood frozen in the doorway, unable to move or join the group that had gathered at the foot of the bed.

There was something in the atmosphere, a change that made the air feel heavy with precious little oxygen. The room itself was bathed in an amber glow, with warm tendrils of shining mist creeping across the floor, obscuring the blue and gold paisley carpet. As he watched, the flowing mist snaked its way along the bedpost, enveloping the oaken structure and rising towards the ceiling. He could barely see the figure on the bed, her body wreathed in mist, distorting the image of the young woman so that all he could see was a hazy silhouette.

"It's alright," said Edgar, motioning for Setzer to come into the room. "She won't hurt you. Though you might want to stand back in case she has one of her outbursts."

Setzer looked from Edgar to the young woman on the bed, watching as she rolled over onto her back. Even from a distance he could see her long fingers gripping the bedsheets, with claws like daggers digging into the mattress. He took a tentative step forward, pausing as the mist cleared long enough for him to catch a glimpse of a young man standing beside the bed.

"Don't mind him," Edgar continued, nodding towards the muscular figure beside the bed. "That's my brother, Sabin."

The gambler watched as Sabin placed a damp washcloth on her forehead, causing a fresh wave of steam to rise from the surface of her skin. The steam obscured his vision, and suddenly he realized that the mist surrounding the bed had been caused by Sabin's attempt to lower her temperature.

"What's wrong with her?" asked Setzer, moving cautiously towards the bed. "Is she ill?"

"No." Sabin shook his head, frowning as thick spirals of steam rose towards the ceiling. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the burning vapor and took a step back. "She's not sick," he said, glancing sideways at Setzer. "Her magic is out of control. We're trying to make her comfortable until she regains control of her abilities."

"This is extraordinary." Setzer stopped at the foot of the bed, his hair damp from standing in such close proximity to the shining mist. "In all my years, I never would have imagined being in the same room as one of these Espers."

He watched in awe as Terra moved restlessly in her sleep, the sheets tangled about her lean form, with one arm draped over the side of the bed. Every now and then she would twitch and growl, her lips dawn back in a fierce snarl. The sounds she made were, at times, both terrible and frightening. Not that anyone could understand what she was saying, which left her howling and sobbing in frustration as she crawled across the bed, searching for someone who might understand.

She was reaching out in vain, her eyes scanning the room like a predatory animal. But in this form it was difficult for her to communicate, her friends retreating to the far corner of the room until only Sabin was left, holding her down as she kicked and thrashed. And in that moment she was shown everything that she'd ever left behind. She saw her father holding hands with her mother, a smile gracing the features of his face as he pulled her close, eyes closed as he inhaled the warm, rich scent that clung to her hair.

"I've chosen a name for her," Maduin whispered in the darkness of her mind.

A light was shining somewhere in the sky, a guiding star that would take her home. She reached towards the shooting star, and opened her eyes to the sound of her father's voice.

The beings that inhabited this world were fascinated by her; creatures with fur and feathers, with hair that shone like silver strands of moonlight, and horns that spiraled out in all directions. An Esper with delicate wings like those of a butterfly knelt beside her, blinking and smiling as the toddler wrapped her hand around the Esper's finger. They were joined shortly by a young wolf, his tongue lolling from the corner of his mouth as he approached the group of friends.

"It's alright, Terra," her mother soothed. "Fenrir is our friend. He won't hurt you, sweetheart."

Fenrir lowered his head, his tail wagging as the little girl leaned forward and patted his snout.

Terra felt safe here, surrounded by friends and family who not only loved her but treated her as though she were perfectly normal. They didn't look at her with curious stares, pointing and whispering every time she walked into the room. However there were those that looked at her with disapproval, frowning in disgust whenever Maduin left the house with his infant daughter. There were those who avoided them like the plague, there were friendships lost, broken by the coming of this stranger who entered their world one dark and stormy night. And then one day the storms returned, and Terra found herself cold and alone, her mother's lifeless body beside her in the rain.

It felt as though the storms would last forever, her cries lost amid the roar of thunder, with tears like rain cascading down her face. It wasn't until she was swept up in a pair of arms that she realized she wasn't alone.

"Please, sir," a voice pleaded. A teenaged boy with long, blond hair came forward, his cloak rippling on the wind. "She's scared. Let me hold her."

There was a resounding crack, and the boy hit the ground on his hands and knees. He was still for several seconds, his wet hair dripping into his face as he lifted his head, staring wide-eyed at the man who had assaulted him. Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the figure of Emperor Gestahl as he raised the crying child above his head. There was no turning back once she entered the arms of the empire. She belonged to them now.

Years passed before she saw him again, that unfortunate boy who had begged the Emperor to let him comfort her. It happened one morning when the storms of her past returned with a vengeance, flooding the low lying parts of Vector as he ran with her in his arms, trying to escape the deluge that fell from the skies. Then one by one the years began to pass. She watched him turn like day into night, the world unfolding in the palm of his hand as fires erupted on the surface of the earth. She watched him spread his wings and move beyond the clouds, and all at once she awoke with a start, gasping as she sat bolt upright in bed.

It took a moment for Terra to regain control of her breathing, her chest heaving as though she'd just run nine miles uphill in the blazing summer sun. She was shaking uncontrollably, her mane of violet hair retreating into the base of her skull.

" _You're alright, Terra. Stay calm. It should all be over in a minute."_

She looked to her left and saw Locke standing beside the bed, a shining piece of crystalized magic in his hands. Sabin was beside him, watching carefully as she awoke from the dream that had been holding her captive. It took some time for her to realize where she was, and that the voice speaking to her was not that of Locke or Sabin. It was her father, speaking to her from within the crystal Locke was holding.

"Father," she murmured, her voice reduced to a breathy whisper. Her bottom lip was trembling, her eyes filling with tears as she reached for the magicite in his hands. Her hair, although noticeably shorter, was still an odd mix of purple and green, with patches of fur covering the back of her hands. "Please," she whispered. "Let me see him. I want to see my dad."

Locke hesitated slightly, looking to Sabin who nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. He feared that it would be too much for her, seeing her father like this just minutes after she'd woken up. Then again you couldn't really prepare someone for something like this no matter how much time had passed.

He tentatively placed the magicite in the palm of her hand, watching as the light within the stone grew stronger at her touch. Terra collapsed against the mound of pillows, her eyes closing as she felt her father's energy flowing through her hands, down her arms and into her chest where it helped calm her racing heart.

 _"You're going to be alright,"_  her father's voice whispered.  _"I'm proud of you, Terra. You've grown into such fine young lady."_

The light faded as her human form returned, her eyes opening to see her father smiling up at her from within the center of the stone. "Daddy," she murmured, smiling through her tears as she traced the edges of his face with her fingertip. "I love you, daddy."

 _"And I you, Terra."_  Maduin raised his right hand, his palm pressed against the interior of the stone.  _"I'm here for you whenever you need me. You need only speak my name, and I'll be with you."_

"Terra." Edgar moved cautiously towards the bed. "Are you going to be alright?"

"I think so." She looked up at him and nodded. "I remember now. I was raised in the Esper world and this... This is my dad. Maduin." Terra sniffed, raising a hand and wiping the tears from her eyes. "I'm the daughter of an Esper and a human. That's why I have these abilities."

Her voice trailed off into silence, her eyelids drooping as she struggled to stay awake. The transformation had taken its toll on her, leaving her in a state of complete exhaustion.

"I'm sorry, Terra," said Locke, a bitter note of regret lacing his tone. "They were holding him prisoner, along with a half dozen others, keeping them in tanks like some kind of animal. We tried to rescue them, but we couldn't reach them in time."

Terra was at a loss for words. She'd only known these people for a few months, and already they'd proven that they were willing to risk their lives in order to rescue someone she cared about.

"This isn't over yet," said Edgar, and Sabin lifted his head, looking back at his older sibling. "You saw what the empire was doing in there. If we don't put a stop to this, we'll be facing a second War of the Magi."

"What do you suggest we do?" asked Locke, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. "The empire is going to be on high alert after what happened back there. If we go within five hundred miles of that place we're as good as dead."

Silence stretched between them, all eyes on the King as they waited for a response. But instead of getting a reply from Edgar, it was Terra that spoke, her confidence growing now that she had a better understanding of what she was.

"We need someone," she said slowly, her eyes never leaving the burning core at the center of the shining stone. "Someone from my world who is willing to listen and see that we mean no harm. If I could speak with them, I might be able to convince them to help us."

A murmur of conversation arose from the group, some showing concern while others nodded in approval.

"It's possible that we could gain their trust if Terra were to speak with them," said Edgar. "And if the citizens of Narshe are willing to lend a hand, then we could attack them from two fronts. But in order to do that, we will need to open the sealed gate."

"The sealed what?" Locke turned to Edgar, a look of confusion showing on the features of his face. "What exactly is the sealed gate? And where in the world is this gate hidden?"

"It's located in the mountains east of Vector. I heard Banon speak of it during our time in the Returners hideout. He explained that opening the sealed gate would provide access to the Esper world. If we're successful, and Terra is able to convince them to join us, then we might just have a chance."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Sabin struck the palm of his hand with his fist, his eyes shining with determination. "I say we bring the battle to their doorstep and finish this!"

"What do you say, Terra?" Locke asked. "Are you willing to join us for one last fight? With your help we could finally put an end to this nonsense."

Terra lifted her head, finally managing to look away from the shard of magicite. She had never been sure of herself, her thoughts returning to the day when they first met. It felt as though her life began in Narshe, and everything that took place beforehand had faded into nonexistence. She felt so vulnerable then, so helpless and alone. It was because of them that she learned to believe in herself. Without them she never would have discovered her true identity, and slowly she began to realize that she was never truly alone. Not when she had them with her, encouraging her and helping her every step of the way.

"I'll do it. I'm the only one who can. And if I don't, more innocent people are going to get hurt." She ran a hand over the stone's jagged edge, a hint of sadness in her voice as she softly said, "Too many people have been killed. Good people, people who never wanted to get mixed up in any of this. The empire took their lives, their families and their freedom. But I still have a choice, and I choose to stand against them."

"Thank you, Terra." Locke offered her his hand. "Come on. We need to get back to Narshe."

Terra rolled over onto her side, one hand against the mattress, the other holding her father's magicite as she pushed herself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Locke and Sabin were at her side, the monk watching as Locke slipped his arm around her waist, helping her up and walking her across the room. She only made it a few steps before something caught her eye, and she looked down to see an envelope lying on the floor.

Her name was scrawled across the envelope in scarlet letters, her eyes slowly widening as Edgar stopped to retrieve the faded envelope, handing it to Locke while making some joke about how he needed to empty his pockets before getting on the airship.

"How do you expect Setzer to get the airship off the ground with all your treasure weighing us down?" he said jokingly. Beside them his brother snorted, laughing as the thief hastily stuffed the object in his pocket.

The rest of their conversation was lost amid the pouring rain as they stepped outside, their voices distant, a faraway noise in the back of her mind. It was just as well. Terra couldn't speak even if she'd wanted to, her thoughts focused on the image of the teenaged boy who grew up to write the letters they found.


	50. Ashes Of The Phoenix

The sun was sinking below the mountains as they escorted him to the meeting room, bathing the halls in warm shades of amber and gold. He kept his head down, giggling and muttering to himself, until the doors opened and he was thrust into a chair beside the window.

The palace guards filed into the room, keeping an eye on him while they awaited the arrival of Emperor Gestahl. It was necessary, he told himself, because these fools knew he couldn't be trusted. It wasn't for his own safety, oh no, because what did he, Kefka Palazzo, have to fear from these pathetic ignoramuses? No, this was for the Emperor, for the geriatric ruler of... of what? Oh yes, this charming kingdom of ants. Insects scurrying beneath his feet. And we all know how much fun it is to roast those pathetic little insects.

"Palazzo?"

Was someone speaking to him? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it was a fly on the windowsill, lazily buzzing in the summer heat. Some distant part of his mind told him to respond. But even this took a substantial amount of effort, his temper flaring as he forced himself to acknowledge the other person in the room.

"What?!" Kefka jerked his head up, and found himself gazing into the black, burning eyes of Emperor Gestahl. This man, with his fierce stare and elegant mane once held the dangerous majesty of a lion, lurking and brooding beneath scarlet waves of silk. But those days were over, fading with the passing storm that darkened the horizon.

"Your Majesty," said Kefka, grinning and showing his perfectly white teeth. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" He knew exactly what he was doing, giggling in amusement as he pretended not to know why the Emperor had brought him here. It was oh so delightful, toying with this overgrown walrus while Celes' life hung in the balance.

"Are you incapable of paying attention for more than five seconds at a time?" Gestahl snarled, seizing him by the front of his shirt and shaking him like a rag doll. "You better tell me what I want to know, or so help me I'll fry your carcass and feed it to the dogs!"

Lies and empty threats. Kefka knew how valuable he was, and he laughed in the Emperor's face, simply because he knew he could get away with it. This old fool didn't even realize that he was being played like a pawn in a game of chess. No, of course not. Because despite the number of guards stationed around the room, Gestahl still had faith in his mage. He trusted him to tell the truth, believing in his unwavering loyalty even when Kefka was raging out of control.

Blind faith, that's what they called it. And it was going to get him killed.

The smile fell from his lips as quickly as a flame that had been extinguished by a gust of wind. The guards closest to him stepped aside, consumed by a feeling of unease deepening steadily towards terror. They were frightened by what they saw on Kefka's face, because what they saw was nothing. No thought, no emotion, not a single thread binding him to humanity. It was this emptiness that made them quiver, his blank stare passing over each and every one of them before he spoke.

"I was bored," he said simply, baffling the Emperor with this vague response. His gaze drifted towards the window, staring at the sky as the sun sank below the horizon. "I thought it might stir up some excitement. And who am I to turn down the opportunity to terrorize the grunts in her troop? For a good cause, of course."

Gestahl released him, a look of utter confusion etched into the lines on his face. He didn't know what he was talking about, nor did he recognize the warning signs as Kefka slumped against the chair, his head down, staring at the floor.

Then, slowly, his face cleared. Kefka was becoming more aware, more alert as the flames of Ifrit pooled in his chest, the heat radiating outwards until his fingertips burned with suppressed energy.

He lifted his chin, staring at the ceiling tiles as he said in a casual tone, "She promised me the Esper in return for my help. She promised... She said, she  _knew_  I couldn't refuse her offer. Even though the Esper had been in the frozen food isle for god knows how many centuries, but that's not the point!" The last few words exploded out of him in the form of a scream, startling the guards with his sudden outburst. "The point is magic," he said, turning his head this way and that as though he were listening to some sound the others failed to notice. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you? You felt it when you held that shard, that pretty little rock that holds the key to our future."

Kefka put his hands down at his sides, his fingers curling over the rim of the chair as he threw his head back and laughed. It was a truly terrible sound. Unnatural, forced yet completely unrestrained. It was then that his hands started shaking, the curious spasms returning with a vengeance, making it impossible for him to sit still.

"Celes always has to be better than me," he continued, his hands fluttering in the air as he punctuated his speech with bizarre movements and gestures. "The frozen image of perfection. The poster child for what Magitek knights are supposed to be. And I thought that if I had the Esper, if I could feel its energy pulsing through my veins, then perhaps I could do better. So excuse me if I appear to have selfish needs, because all I wanted was that damn Esper before they carried it off to the factory and stuffed it in one of those glowing fish tanks."

"And what did you plan on doing once the Esper was in your possession?" asked the Emperor.

Kefka had gone quiet again, shutting down for a full thirty seconds while the guards moved and shifted until their backs were against the wall.

"Palazzo?" Gestahl hesitated before moving forward. "Palazzo, did you hear me?"

Kefka slowly lifted his head, blue eyes finding black as he spoke a single word.

"Kill."

"What?" Gestahl stared at him.

"I was going to kill them all." He spoke slowly at first, almost groggily, his face slack as he stared at the Emperor. Then all at once he came alive, and he tittered. "I was going to tear down the walls, burn every last building, and flood that miserable little dump when I melted the snow on the mountain. Of course we had to make it look believable. But then she slipped, getting caught up in her lies when they suspected her of turning against the empire. And pardon me if I wasn't the least bit upset when I discovered that Celes was going to be executed. More work for me, though. I'd have to snatch the Esper on my own and I - "

"Enough!" Gestahl shouted. He'd grown tired of watching this man perform, leaping and flailing like a fish out of water. "That's enough! I've heard everything I need to hear," he said, giving Kefka one last look of contempt before turning and heading for the door. "I will make my decision regarding the fate of Miss Chere in the morning. Until then she is to remain in custody with no further visitations from any of her regular contacts." The door closed behind him, and Kefka was left staring at the wall in silence.

After a while he began to move, his arms around his waist as he rocked back and forth. It was going to be a very long night, with that single piece of magicite calling to him, every minute of every hour, until all he could think about was that single point of light shining in darkness.

The Espers were real, the magicite was real. Terra was not. She was shadow, this was light. This was reality. She had forsaken her god, leaving him to wander the endless corridors of his mind, alone, unwanted, a fallen angel with no one left to hear him scream. And if Terra was shadow then Celes was the moon, her face sometimes hidden, sometimes visible, but always right there lurking over his shoulder.

He could have spread his wings and torn the moon from the skies, casting it aside like a fallen star. But instead he chose to let her live, if only for a moment, so that he could have the pleasure of stealing the treasure from her hands, then use its jagged edge to slit her throat.

Those precious gems, each one housing the spirit of a fallen Esper. He'd seen her face reflected in the prism, a thousand times he heard her scream and knew that he would need her during the final leg of his journey. He never meant to acknowledge the rumors, or to help them spread like the fires racing through his blood. He would have laughed in Cid's face if it weren't for the moment when he gazed upon the remains of Siren and saw Celes lying at his feet, fallen before the God of Magic, with the statues of the Warring Triad crumbling to dust in his hands.

He cackled, then moaned, then screamed. The wind screamed with him, howling as he sunk his nails into his arms, and felt the stirring of something sinister beneath his skin. He could feel the skin stretching over his wings, the hollow bones lengthening as he shuddered and gasped. It was a reaction, albeit a delayed reaction, to the magicite he'd swiped from the Emperor's hands. It told him he was getting close, and that it wouldn't be long until he could take the moon, the sun and all the stars that lit the sky and burn them with the final light of judgment.

\-------------

The last dying breath of summer was blowing across the darkened skies, caressing the side of his face as Setzer steered the airship towards the mountainous region of Narshe. He took his hand off the wheel, just for a moment, and brushed the silvery strands of hair out of his face. It would be some time before the earth began to cool, but for now he was enjoying the warm winds playfully tugging on the fabric of his clothes.

He stayed at the wheel long after sunset, listening to the gentle stirrings of conversation as Edgar joined his friend on the deck of the Blackjack. Though he didn't mean to listen in on what was being said, he found his attention drawn towards them when Locke mentioned that lovely lady he'd mistaken for his darling Maria.

It began earlier that evening when the three friends sat down to dinner. Edgar and Locke suspected that Terra had seen the letters as they were leaving Zozo, with Kefka's untidy scrawl lacing the front of the envelope. It wasn't until Locke questioned her during dinner that she confessed to seeing them. And although she had little to say regarding the origin of the letters, her behavior seemed to indicate that she remembered each and every one of them, including the ones they hadn't brought back during their trip to Vector.

Terra lifted her head, looking at them before asking if she could have the letters. She wanted them back, but more than anything else she wanted him back. She wanted to step out on the deck, the skies awash in shades of grey, and see that teenaged boy standing in the rain.

Locke had a spoonful of corn halfway to his mouth when Terra voiced her question. He lowered the spoon onto his plate, glancing sideways at Edgar who was giving him an anxious look from across the table. They didn't feel that she should see them right away, not after everything she'd been through during the past few weeks. But the letters were hers, and she had a right to see them whether they thought she should or not.

"Ah, one minute," said Locke, digging through his pockets as a multitude of objects spilled onto the floor.

Edgar leaned sideways in his seat, looking down at the collection of treasure that accumulated on the floor. There was a dull thump as one of the figurines hit the rug, followed by a shower of gold coins and a few scraps of paper.

Locke paused, his eyes traveling upwards as he glanced at the King. He was unashamed of the fact that he had stolen every last item that came tumbling out onto the floor, and after a moment he continued searching for the letters he'd taken from Kefka's room.

"Here they are," he said, leaning forward and scooping up the pile of assorted treasures. "That's all I could find on such short notice. Celes had a letter in her possession when she..." He hesitated for a fraction of a second before continuing. "When she was taken by the empire. There were others in a shoebox on the bed, but we were in a hurry and I couldn't get them all."

"You mean you didn't have room for everything," said Edgar, and Locke managed a small smile, chuckling at his friend's comment.

Terra leaned forward in her seat, reaching for the letters and pictures as he placed them on the table. "Thank you," she murmured, followed shortly by, "May I be excused?"

Edgar shifted in his seat, looking rather uncomfortable. "Yes." He nodded once, signaling that it was alright for her to leave. "Yes, you may, Terra."

Another muttered thanks, and she clutched the items against her chest with one hand, her other hand on the table as she pushed her chair out, stood up and quickly left the room.

There was a pause, the silence broken by the sound of Locke's chair scraping against the floorboards. His footsteps moved across the floor, not bothering to look back at his friend before turning and heading towards the stairs.

Locke reached the deck in record time, keeping his head down and nodding briefly when Setzer bid him good evening. The air felt cooler now that the heat of the day had faded with the setting sun, and he stopped beside the railing, letting the stillness of the night soothe his weary mind.

He knew that Edgar was right, that he was only doing this because he felt consumed by guilt and was trying, unsuccessfully, to ease the burden he'd felt since Rachel's passing.

"Maybe I'm just as crazy as the rest of them," he muttered, feeling somewhat amused at the thought. He hung his head, laughing at the absurdity of it all. The world had gone mad, and he had lost his marbles along with everyone else in Vector. Though by now he shouldn't be surprised. He tried everything to keep Rachel's body intact. And if preserving your girlfriend's body with potions and herbs wasn't enough to buy someone a ticket to the loony bin, then he didn't know what was.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and slowly his gaze drifted towards the staircase, watching as a cloaked figure climbed the steps.

It was Edgar, his blond hair turning a dull shade of platinum as he stepped into the moonlight. "Pleasant evening, isn't it, Locke?" he said, nodding in the direction of the moonlit fields.

"Yeah." A thin smile graced the corners of his lips, and Locke raised a hand, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, it is. Be even better if this damn heat would pass."

Boards creaked as the King leaned against the railing, looking out over the cloudless skies that stretched endlessly towards the horizon. "There's something I would like to discuss," he said, and the smile that had formed on Locke's face faded in an instant. "Now, forgive me if this seems a bit insensitive, and you can tell me to mind my own business if you don't feel that now is the time or place to discuss this. But I've seen the way you behave while in her presence, the way you nearly got yourself killed when those Espers sacrificed themselves." He looked over at his companion, who had his head down with strands of hair falling across his face. "You know, there are people in this world who care about you. People who don't want to see you throw your life away because of something that was beyond your control."

"What're you saying?" He didn't mean to sound so angry, his harsh tone doing little to conceal the hurt and confusion he felt since leaving Vector. "Are you saying I shouldn't have protected Celes? Have you lost faith in her already? After this one time - "

"No, that's not what I'm saying." Edgar held up a hand to silence him, his voice calm as he continued speak. "This isn't about her. It's about how you've been behaving since the accident, and how you nearly get yourself killed every time a woman is in need of assistance."

"Don't talk to me about that! You keep telling me that I should move on, and that she wouldn't want me out there risking my life over something that happened three years ago. But you didn't know her. You don't know what she would've wanted. Hell, she didn't even know what she wanted until five minutes before she died."

'That's a lie,' a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. 'You know she loved you, and that she wouldn't have wanted you clinging to memories of the past.'

'I don't know that for sure,' he countered. 'I don't know anything until I hear her voice, one last time.'

Locke glanced at Setzer, taking a step back before turning his attention to Edgar. He was suddenly overtaken by rage, his fists shaking at his sides as he recalled the moment when he was driven out of Kohlingen by the people who used to be his friends.

"I'm sorry," said Locke, frowning and shaking his head. "I can't do this right now. I need to be alone." He moved towards the stairs, turning and taking one last look at Edgar before going below deck. It wasn't until he reached the door at the end of the hallway that his frustration boiled over, and he struck the wall with the palm of his hand.

'Another damsel in distress,' said the little voice inside his head. 'You can't protect her anymore than you could Rachel.'

"No," Locke muttered, his breath coming quickly as his heart beat a fierce tempo against his ribs. "No!" He slammed his fists against the wall, head bowed, chest heaving as he fought against the swell of emotion that crashed into him like a tidal wave. "Celes is not not some damsel in distress. She fought Kefka and lived to tell about. I barely made it three feet across the snow before he had my ass in a sling." He swallowed hard. "I swore to protect her, but she doesn't need me. I can't do it anyway... I can't..." He inhaled sharply, a half strangled sob falling from his lips. "I can't protect her," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Locke?"

The door on his left opened.

"Locke, are you okay?"

He sighed heavily, leaning forward until his forehead was touching the wall. "It's fine, Terra," he muttered, keeping his head down to avoid eye contact. "I just needed to blow off some steam."

She looked at him the same way she looked at Kefka, with wide, frightened eyes, wondering what was wrong and if there was anything she could do to help. When he saw the expression on her face, those green eyes brimming with tears as she held one hand against her chest, he lowered his hands and moved away from the wall, not noticing the dent he'd made when his fists made contact with the paneling.

"I'm sorry, Terra. I didn't mean to worry you. It's just that I've got a lot on my mind, and I know you don't need more crap dumped on top of everything you've been through."

"It's alright," she said, her fingers closing around the lump of magicite in her pocket. Her father's magicite had become something of a keepsake, a precious object that helped comfort her when was feeling down. She ran her thumb over the cracks and grooves in its surface, then lifted her head so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "I don't mind the interruption. It's just that I don't like it when people are hurting and they won't let anyone get close enough to help. I've seen it before, you know." She paused. "With him."

"Right." Locke nodded, then glanced sideways through the open door. He could see the envelopes, letters and photographs scattered across the bed, a depression near the foot of the bed where she'd been sitting before his outburst lured her out into the hall. "You're still looking at those things?" he asked, eager to find something that would steer the conversation away from Rachel and Celes.

Terra opened her mouth to speak, but was unable to find the words she wanted to say. She stood there blinking and staring at the wall, a faraway look in her eyes as though she were seeing something that wasn't there.

Locke raised his eyebrows, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern. "Terra?" He snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Are you with me, Terra?"

She started when she heard him say her name. "Oh! Oh, I'm sorry." Her gaze drifted to the side. "I was just thinking."

"Yeah. So was I. It looks like we've been thinking about things too much, if you ask me." Locke put his hands into his pockets, his frustration fading the moment her saw that look in her eyes, and realized that she was just as lost as he was. He moved past her into the bedroom, stopping beside the bed and looking at the collection of objects strewn across the comforter. "Damn, I knew that guy was one chocobo short of a flock, but this is ridiculous."

Terra turned around and saw him examining one of the letters. The parchment, thick as it was, had been torn in several places under the fury of the hand which had driven the pen. Slashed into the bottom of the letter were the words "fuck you this world is going to burn" written in capital letters.

"Give it here!" she exclaimed, snatching the letter out of his hand. She placed it on the bed next to the others, taking a moment to smooth the sheet of parchment even though he had done nothing to damage its already worn surface.

And then she stopped, her eyes moving from one faded letter to the next. She could still see him, his hair plastered to the sides of his face as Gestahl's laughter mingled with the sound of crashing thunder. He slowly lifted his head, watching helplessly as the Emperor ordered them to take her to the palace. Lightning swept across the heavens, and suddenly he was laughing, screaming as the world turned to dust.

Terra watched him disappear into the clouds, her tears glistening like dewdrops against the burning skies. She had difficulty believing that this was the same person who had held and comforted when she was a child. That person was far away, lost amid the endless sands of time, and it pained her to think that she might never see him again. But more than anything else she felt confused. Why did it hurt so much to see him like this, his thoughts spiraling out of control with each letter that he wrote. Was it possible that she still cared about him?

The floorboards creaked, and Terra looked up to see Locke standing beside her.

"You alright?" he asked, adjusting his ragged bandana as strands of hair fell into his face.

She wanted to say yes. She wanted to lie like he did. Because lying was easier than admitting that she might have feelings for Kefka.

"I don't know." Her voice cracked, and Locke placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It feels like something that used to be okay, or something that will be okay in a little while. But right now I don't know. I don't understand any of this." Another pause, longer this time. "Has there ever been someone special in your life?" she asked softly. "Someone you cared about so much you couldn't let them go?"

"Yes," he said. For a moment he lingered on the edge of saying something more - of saying,  _"There was someone, Terra. A woman, not just any woman but the most beautiful, loving person I'd ever met. She was always laughing and smiling, her hair tied back and blowing in the wind. We had a good life. And then one day I ruined everything."_

"And did you love her?"

"Yes," he said again, his throat constricting with emotion. "I still do. Which is why I'm trying to find the Phoenix Stone so I can call her spirit back from the great beyond."

"The Phoenix Stone?" Terra looked over her shoulder at him, her eyebrows vanishing beneath the emerald strands that framed her face. "What is that?"

"It's a legendary treasure. The most precious one of all. If I had the Phoenix Stone, I could heal her injuries and bring her back to life. But its been lost since the War of the Magi, which was said to have taken place a thousand years ago, and I have no idea where it is. I just keep searching, hoping one day I'll find it so I can hear her voice again."


	51. Wrath Of God

Kefka was absent on the day Celes was released from prison. He'd fallen ill shortly after meeting with Gestahl, and had spent most of the night dozing and waking in a cold sweat. Around one in the morning he lapsed into a bout of agonized screaming, which continued for almost an hour until he lost consciousness.

He came to slowly, his fingers twitching, grasping a handful of the burgundy sheets on his bed. He was lying on his stomach, with one leg trailing over the edge of the mattress. The window beside the bed was open, letting in a gentle breeze that moved and danced across the feathers on his wings.

It had been years since he felt this kind of pain and sickness, his stomach churning with such intensity that he feared he was going to vomit. Kefka groaned and tried lifting his head off the pillow, then screamed as a white hot, searing pain ignited at the base of his skull and traveled downwards through his neck and shoulders.

It felt as though his wings were on fire, the heat radiating from his back where it spread throughout the rest of his body. He was burning. He felt sure of it. And in a moment of desperation, he wished that Celes would cast Blizzara on him and put him out of his misery. But no, that was not suitable for a god. She was beneath him. She owed him her life. And he would make sure she knew it once he managed to crawl out of bed.

He rolled over onto his side, a sudden cry escaping his lips as the corner of his bottom left wing was flattened under his hip. 'Of course,' he thought, still gasping and groaning as he tried to make himself comfortable. 'Growing pains.' It made perfect sense. But why did it have to hurt so much? He couldn't even breathe without causing the pain to intensify.

It took a minute for him to get his breathing under control, taking short, measured breaths so as not to make the pain worse. His chest, wings and back ached with such intensity he could barely move. But that was fine. 'Just peachy,' he thought, and allowed himself a faint chuckle that he instantly regretted.

Kefka tried telling himself that it would soon be over, and that all his pain and suffering would be worth it in the end. All he needed was one more piece of magicite. Then another and another, until he was counting those precious gems as he drifted off to sleep.

Three days passed before his fever broke and the pain began to subside. During that time he slept and awoke, then slept again, his mind adrift in a haze of fever and sickness. It wasn't until noon on the fourth day that he noticed a voice coming from downstairs. Not that he paid it much attention. It was too far away from where he was, lying there on his back with a wet washcloth draped across his forehead.

Within minutes he was sound asleep, resting peacefully on a soft cushion of downy feathers. He slept until the noonday sun began to sink beyond the western mountains, bringing with it a welcome relief from the heat, as well as the return of Gestahl's messenger boy. And this time the young man wouldn't leave until he received a reply.

The mage groaned and rolled over on to his stomach, raising a hand and shielding his eyes from the sunlight streaming through the curtains. He could hear the messenger boy knocking on the door, calling his name with increased urgency.

"Palazzo! The Emperor's called for you! You're to report to the throne room immediately or risk suspension. He'd like to remind you that if you feel too sick to come in, then you should document your symptoms with Dr. Cid." A pause. "Kefka Palazzo, did you hear what I said?"

Kefka forced himself into a sitting position, grumbling and cursing as the bedsheets fell from his shoulders. The dark fabric pooled around his waist, his fingernails snagging the curtains as he pushed them aside and gazed out the window.

When the messenger boy looked up and saw Kefka in the window, his wings shining in the last light of dusk with nothing more than a sheet draped around his waist, he sank to the ground on his knees.

"Oh... Oh good lord in heaven." He raised a trembling hand and moved it across his chest, making the symbol of a cross. This gesture didn't go unnoticed by Kefka, whose lips drew back in a sinister grin.

"Tell Gestahl that I'll be with him shortly. I wasn't expecting him to summon me on my day off. And as you can see, I'm not dressed for the occasion."

"Right. Yes, sir." The messenger boy got to his feet and hurried down the path, running, as though his very life depended on it.

Kefka giggled in amusement, watching the little mouse scurry back to the safety of his burrow. He then yawned and flexed his wings, looking over his shoulder to see how much they'd grown. The upper set of wings had developed more since he'd held the shard of magicite, giving him a better range of movement and allowing him to fully extend both sets of wings. But as far as he could tell that was the only change that had taken place.

"No!" he shouted, his wings quivering with barely suppressed rage. "Why is it that Terra can fully transform herself while I'm left flopping and fluttering like some waterlogged chicken? What is it going to take? H-how... How much? How much magicite is it going to take before I can claim my rightful place as god of this pitiful planet?"

He leaned forward, one clawed hand on the headboard, nails scraping against the polished oak, the other hand pressed firmly against the mattress. "H-how?" he muttered, his words coming quickly, jabbering incessantly as a series of confused and fragmented thoughts were scattered across the inner workings of his mind. "How... how can she... How i-is..." His jaw went slack, a blank stare crept across his face, and for a full twenty seconds he could neither speak nor breathe.

The seconds passed with such agonizing slowness, the ticking clock marking the passage of time until his thoughts returned. Then one by one the pieces fell in place, a few of them sticking while others needed to be rotated before fitting in their correct location.

He remembered what the Emperor told him about the cave to the sealed gate, and he lifted his head, his gaze drifting towards the horizon as shadows fell across the observation tower in the east.

They waited so long, trying to figure out how to break the seal and gain entrance to the Esper world. And now they were close, the chasm growing wider as Demon opened his jaws and threatened to swallow him whole. But none of that mattered anymore. Kefka would gladly sacrifice his humanity at the feet of the Warring Triad, allowing them to take what remained of his fragile body and smote the ruins at the base of the sealed gate. It was this thought that enabled him to force himself through another day, taking it one step at a time as he entered the throne room and stood before the Emperor.

"You have a message for me?" he queried, his tone dripping with false sweetness as he bowed before the Emperor.

Gestahl wasted no time getting straight to the point. "A soldier arrived earlier this morning, bringing news of an airship that was sighted in the vicinity of Tzen. The men at the observation tower have been put on high alert, and have been ordered to move into the lower halls when the enemy approaches the building." He raised a hand and motioned towards Kefka. "I want you to go to the observation tower. And when the Returners are sighted in the area, you are to move ahead of them and ambush them at the gate."

"Terra," Kefka blurted out, his hands shaking as he reached towards the Emperor. It was a pleading gesture, like a child begging for a piece of candy. "Can I have her?" he asked, grinning and hopeful.

"First she must open the sealed gate and summon her kin from the Esper world. You can do whatever you want with her after that."

There was silence, his heart stalling somewhere in the vicinity of his Adam's apple. It took a moment for Kefka's diseased mind to process what he was hearing. Then suddenly his pulse quickened, the pieces once more sliding into place as he threw his head back and laughed.

The Emperor's eyes were narrow slits, watching from beneath his mane of thick, graying hair. One of the guards tightened his grip on his sword, and Gestahl shook his head, the subtle movement going unnoticed by the crazed magician. "Do not disappoint me, Palazzo," he said, and Kefka spun in a circle like a ballerina before turning and running out the door.

\----------------

 

The Imperial observation post was located in the eastern mountain range, more than three days from Vector if you traveled by foot. Kefka knew that time was short, and if he could he would have flown there under his own power, but his wings were still too small to allow for flight. He was forced to borrow one of the chocobos from the stable, which held up surprisingly well considering that Kefka made it run without stopping until he reached his destination.

The soldiers were still at their stations when he arrived, the exhausted chocobo panting and dragging its feet. He abandoned his steed at the entrance, his bright, blue eyes sweeping the area, making note of the men who were watching him from the ramparts.

Two of the men came down to greet him, saluting in a typical military fashion as they stood before the court mage. The fact that they were there meant that the Returners hadn't entered the cave, which meant there was still time to reach the sealed gate.

Kefka swiped a canteen of water from the soldier stationed near the entrance, pushing past the bewildered young man and making his way down the narrow slope. He entered the mouth of the cave, and was greeted by an uncomfortably hot breeze rising from the tunnels that lead down into the fiery chasm below. How fitting, he thought, that a fallen angel should traverse the paths through Hell, seeking otherworldly treasures so that he could rise beyond the ranks of mortal men.

Bits of rock and soil slid out from underneath his boots, his palm pressed against the wall for balance as moved along the tunnel. The heat was stifling, with precious little oxygen surrounding boiling pits of magma. It wasn't long until his makeup was running in streams down the sides of his face, staining the yellow and red ruff around his neck.

"Gestahl will pay for this," he spat, pausing to adjust his ponytail so his hair wasn't hanging down the back of his neck. Beads of sweat stood out like a galaxy of dots on his forehead, his makeup smearing as he dabbed at his brow with the hem of his cloak. He frowned when he saw the splotches of purple and red clinging to the material, and screamed, "I can't even keep my makeup correct! A good mage has to look good, proper and wonderful. I hate him! I hate hate hate hate every last one of them!"

The air around him shimmered with undulating waves of heat, his heart racing as a sudden rage consumed every ounce of his being. He was in his element, his hatred fueled by the scorching heat and raging torrents of fire. And there, deep within the heart of the mountain, he could hear a noise thrumming beneath the earth. Not their voices, no, not this time. It was the pulse of magic, a heartbeat emanating from center of the Esper world. He could feel the vibrations in the air, the noise rising in volume until the walls began to shake, and he groaned, his trembling hands flying to his face.

Laughter bubbled in his chest, his eyes rolling back in his head until he was staring at the ceiling. He pulled down suddenly, sharply, his mouth opening in a horrendous scream as he tore at the sides of his face. Blood ran into his eyes, past his lips, sweat stinging the open wounds and dripping from his chin. And the noise, the noise! It wouldn't stop! It came rushing in, drowning out the sound of his laughter as he fell to his knees.

"Is this what you want? It is, isn't it? Yes yes, it is!" He was screaming now, his voice carrying throughout the cave and echoing off the stone walls. "Here! Have it!" Kefka slapped himself across the face, causing drops of blood to fly from the fingernail gouges. "This is what you've always wanted from me! This tainted blood... You want the magic returned to you. You want me to ache, to bleed until there's nothing left. Well, that's fine with me. But what do I get in return?"

The earth shuddered as though it were responding to his question. Shadows moved across the wall, the images distorted from the rising heat. And then he heard it, softly at first, moving quickly along the rocks that lined the southern edge of the tunnel. It was the sound of footsteps, though he couldn't tell whether they belonged to a person or to one of the monsters that roamed the cave.

Kefka lifted his head, watching as Terra appeared in the distance. She was running ahead of the others, leaving Locke and Edgar in the dust as she sprinted downhill towards the gate. He didn't even realize that he'd been traveling for well over an hour, slowly plodding along, his mind lost in a haze of hatred and confusion. During that time the Returners had entered the observation post, moving forward in hopes of reaching the gate before the Imperial soldiers arrived.

He watched her stop when she reached the bottom of the hill, looking back at her friends who were doing their best to keep up with her. There was fire in her eyes the likes of which he'd never seen before, the air around her shimmering with emerald flames. Her hair was longer, wilder than before, her movements swift and graceful like a doe running across an open field. It didn't take long for Kefka to realize what had happened, and he grinned, knowing that she had awakened the true power within herself.

"Go on, Terra," Edgar called after her, leaning forward with one arm around Locke. They were both struggling from the intense amount of heat that filled the cavern, and had fallen behind as Terra moved with ease through the second half of the tunnels. "We're not far behind," he continued, his breath ragged. "Go now, and perhaps we can end this war once and for all."

Locke stumbled, with Edgar catching him around the waist as he fell forward. His sight was swimming, his bandana drenched with perspiration. "The phoenix," he muttered, his voice low and groggy. "It's worse inside those caves, isn't it?"

Edgar grit his teeth, his brow creasing with frustration as he shifted slightly, letting his friend lean against him as they continued on their way. "Dammit, Locke, is that all you can think about at a time like this?"

But the thief wasn't listening. In his mind he saw the phoenix, rising from a lake of fire and soaring across the skies. He raised a trembling hand, his arm outstretched as he reached towards the magnificent beast, hoping to catch the legendary creature before it left for parts unknown. And all the while Kefka was watching from his place atop the cliffs, debating about whether or not he should kill them now and continue when he was finished with them.

The thought was tempting, but killing them would draw unwanted attention. And if he wanted to succeed, Kefka would have to wait for Terra before making his first move.

The magician looked towards the mouth of the cave. From where he was standing, he could see the path before her opening up to the night sky, the stars shining like incandescent pearls in a sea of midnight blue.

They were close. Close enough that he could feel the earth tremble as Terra approached the gate, their voices calling to her from the other side. They were aware of her presence, but they were also aware of something sinister that lurked within the shadows. They could sense the darkness that surrounded him, shifting and pulsing with amber flames swirling at its center like the eye of a hurricane. This bastardized form of magic, it was a cruel misrepresentation of their fellow Espers, and they howled with rage, clawing at the gate when they felt Kefka lingering on the edge of their world.

Their fury was such that Terra could not soothe their rage. She lowered her head, both hands against the door, begging for calm so that they might hear the message she wished to convey. But they wouldn't have it, their thunderous roars mingling with the sound of his hideous laughter as he watched them emerge from the gate.

"Kefka!" Terra gasped, looking over her shoulder at the crazed magician. She recoiled in horror when she saw the shape he was in, his face a gruesome mask of blood and melted makeup.

The mage stood his ground, arms raised as he prepared to unleash a devastating wave of magic, when suddenly Terra was struck from behind and launched into the air by the force of the emerging Espers.

Her body curved in a graceful arc, rising more than twenty feet before striking the ground near the entrance to the cave. A starburst of blood exploded onto the rocks as her head made contact with the earth, her violet mane fanning out in disarray like a cloak of lavender flowers.

There was movement all around them, paws churning up a cloud of dust as the Espers summoned thunder from the clouds and fire from the center of the earth. But to Kefka it was meaningless noise, the world dissolving as he knelt beside her in the dirt.

His fingers nestled in the tangled strands of hair, brushing it aside and revealing a deep gash on the side of her head. "Terra," he whispered, gazing in horror at the scarlet ribbons that cascaded down her neck. The blank stare which usually accompanied some of his most brutal acts of violence slid into place, his mind shutting down, preparing for absolute destruction. It was bad enough that they had lured her away from him, but to actually harm his precious pet, for that he would kill.

An Esper with iridescent wings came forward, its serpentine body twisting and coiling, its jaws opening wide as it threw its head back and released a bloodcurdling screech. This creature was positively spewing magic and fury, and Kefka was nearly knocked down by its aura alone.

At that moment Locke and Edgar arrived at the mouth of the cave, the thief's gaze landing on his fallen friend. His strength renewed, Locke screamed her name, pushing the King aside and running out onto the battlefield. He managed to make it halfway towards the gate before the Esper's tail struck the ground, narrowly missing him as he stumbled backwards to look for cover.

Kefka dug his fingernails into the earth, his cloak billowing out behind him as the Esper roared, rearing up and beating its wings. He could feel the magic scald his veins, burning with such intensity that it stole the breath from his lungs. He doubled over, clutching his chest and gritting his teeth. "Terra..." Kefka began to groan in between heaving breaths. "TERRA!"

Locke and Edgar looked up as Kefka's scream rose above the cacophony of screeching, howling Espers, and saw an orb of bluish energy expand about his body with the speed and force of a tidal wave. The sphere engulfed all, friend and foe alike, but it was only the serpentine Esper that writhed in agony at its touch.

Time stood still as the Esper's scales and feathers were torn from its body, with strings of blood drifting past on the wind. The creature opened its mouth to scream, its tongue dangling from the corner of its gaping jaws, and the fleshy organ was all but ripped from its throat.

A moment passed, the Esper swayed and toppled over with an almighty crash, causing the ground to quake beneath their feet. But as it fell more arrived to take its place, until Kefka was forced to flee their vicious onslaught. Though not before taking his precious Terra with him, her limp form dangling from his arms as he ran with her across the barren planes.

It wasn't long until the Esper's rage stretched across the land, from the Imperial observation post to the mountains surrounding the city of Vector.

Leo and his father were first to notice the smoke rising in the distance. And as they watched, the wall of flames gradually transformed the blackened spire of smoke into an amber pillar of light. At first they thought the fires had been caused by Kefka, but it soon became apparent that something far more powerful was responsible for the destruction of the northern forest.

Regulus turned to his son, his expression grim. "Ready the troops. We're going to need every knight and soldier in the city to combat this menace."

"But father, what chance do we have against an enemy this fierce?"

There was a pause. Regulus shifted slightly, leaning heavily on his crutches as he peered out over the parapet. "None," he said simply. "But we are fighters, and we must do our best for the sake of our country."


	52. And Heaven Shall Burn

It was just after one in the morning when a siren sounded in the barracks, rousing the soldiers who were asleep in their beds. Some of them tumbled out of bed, tangling in the bedsheets as they lay sprawled upon the floor. They looked around in panic and confusion, not knowing why they had been summoned in the middle of the night. The others, who were more alert, sprang from their beds and started getting dressed, with one or two of them tripping as they hurried to put their pants on before running into the hallway. Here they were greeted by the flashing lights that flooded the corridor, their eyes widening in horror as they stared at the crimson lights that accompanied the blaring sirens.

One soldier had time to glance at the trees outside his window, their branches alight with the flames of war, before an unearthly howl sounded in the distance. Those that had been successful in making it out into the hall were brought to their knees by the cries of the enraged Espers, their hands flying to their ears in a futile attempt to block the noise.

Deep and terrible, the snarling half-mad growls and roars continued, mounting in volume but with hideously significant pauses. In time their calls began twisting and inverting in a most bizarre manner, until they no longer resembled that of any living creature known to inhabit the earth.

Their calls were enough to summon lightning from the skies, the ground trembling as they approached the palace. More than a few men lost their balance, stumbling and sliding across the cold, steel floor. It was then that the door on their left was thrown open, and General Leo all but fell into the hallway, the floor tilting dangerously as another blast from the unholy spawn echoed in the night.

"The Espers are coming!" he shouted, struggling to be heard above the noise and commotion. "I've ordered the soldiers in the eastern barracks to stand guard at the palace gates. The rest of you are to come with me. Quickly! There isn't much time!"

While Leo led his troops to the armory for supplies, a pair of guards had woken the Emperor, and were joined by Celes as they escorted him to an underground bunker. Which was quite a sight to behold, seeing as how Gestahl hadn't been given time to dress himself in his elegant robes before leaving his room.

He descended the stairs in rapid succession, wearing nothing but a pair of old, ragged bunny slippers and a silken bathrobe. The deep, reverberating footsteps of the armored soldiers sounded in the distance, and for a moment he believed that all was well. What's a handful of Espers against the might of an empire, he thought, a self righteous smirk spreading across the wrinkled features of his face. They'll escort him to the bunker and by morning this will all be over. And think of all the magicite they'll acquire when those Espers are lying dead at his feet. Yes, what a lovely little treasure trove that'll be. But then he stopped, his gaze slowly drifting upwards, and his jaw dropped as he watched the ceiling tiles cracking and bending under the weight of an enormous creature.

Outside the palace, a team of armored soldiers moved into place, piloting the draconian vehicles as they formed a line before the palace gates. More than a dozen Magitek knights joined the armored soldiers, their swords drawn, watching the skies with nervous anticipation.

A warm wind swept across the burning forest, sending embers drifting through the air like a colony of fireflies. The embers rose towards the heavens, taking the shape of an Esper with magnificent flaming wings. This creature brought with it a swirling torrent of raging fire, scorching everything in its path before coming to rest on the trail leading into the woods. And as they watched, a figure materialized from the flames, its reptilian body bathed in an amber glow.

Its scales were hot to the touch, the heat causing its body to glow from the intensity of the flames. Its eyes shone like beacons, white and glaring, unblinking as it lowered its head and roared. Smoke billowed from its nostrils, and flames tinged with reddish-purple hues rose from its back, its body on fire with the essence of magic.

The Magitek armor clicked and whirred, arms raised as the soldiers took aim at the flaming Esper. This movement didn't go unnoticed by the Esper perched atop the roof, its tail swishing from side to side, lips drawn back in a fierce snarl.

By now Leo had reached the armory, his troops falling in line as he ordered them into the armored vehicles. He paused briefly, doing a quick headcount before turning to check that there was enough armor to go around, and was relieved to see that there was enough to cover the remainder of his troops.

"Once you've chosen a vehicle, I want you to follow me to the upper floors of the palace," he said, moving quickly down the line as he the soldiers boarded their vehicles. "The men and women at the entrance will combat the Espers that come at us from the woods, while we battle the ones in the air. But remember to wound them whenever possible. Do not shoot to kill unless absolutely necessary." He then came to an abrupt halt, his eyes widening when he saw his father enter the room. "What are you doing here?" he asked, hearing a mixture of disbelief and astonishment in his tone.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm here to do my part and help defend the empire." He placed a hand on Leo's shoulder, smiling at him despite the gravity of the situation. "You can't expect me to let you do this by yourself, son. This battle may very well be the death of us all. So if we go out fighting, at least we'll go together."

Leo shook his head. "No," he murmured. "Father, you can't. Not after what happened in the factory."

Regulus patted him on the shoulder, swaying slightly as he lowered his hand and adjusted his crutches. It had been five years since he lost his leg in an accident at the Magitek factory. An accident which had been caused by Kefka, after they had an argument regarding the empire's methods for creating artificially enhanced soldiers. It was enough to end his military career, with Kefka taking his place as General not long after he retired. However, he never stopped doing what he could to stay in shape, and had requested a custom made suit of armor that would allow him to fight should the empire go to war with another country.

The retired General reached inside his jacket, removing a remote control from a pocket hidden beneath layers of fabric. "I had this made for the purpose of serving my country in times of crisis," he said, pressing a button on the remote control. "This is what we're here for, and I'm not turning my back on them when this nation is on the brink of destruction."

The Magitek armor turned its head, clicking and whirring like some giant, metallic beetle. It rose up on its hind legs, shining its gleaming eyes in the direction of the retired General, then lumbered forward, stopping and kneeling beside Regulus.

"Here," said Regulus, leaning forward until his knee was touching the side of the vehicle. He slid the crutch out from under his left arm, then the right, balancing carefully with his weight against the suit of armor. "Take these," he said, passing them to his son before gripping the rim of the cockpit and hauling himself into the driver's seat.

"Father, please," said Leo, the look in his eyes begging him not to go. He had a sick feeling twisting in the pit of his stomach, a feeling that warned against letting his father fight in battle against the Espers. "Please don't do this. You'd be better off staying with Emperor Gestahl, so he has some extra protection until we can get the situation under control."

Regulus glanced over his shoulder at him. "The Emperor is safe," he calmly stated. "Miss Chere is with him, and I think my services are better suited for the battlefield."

Leo sighed heavily, his shoulders sinking as he stared at the floor. He could have argued that staying with Gesthal would greatly benefit the empire during this moment of crisis, but he knew his father had a point, and that Regulus could no longer fight unless aided by his custom made suit of armor.

As he sat down in the driver's seat, the machine came to life, its jaws opening to reveal a set of silver fangs that gleamed in the overhead lights. Its metallic scales hissed as they slid across the floor, and Regulus smiled, a grim but determined smile, as he found himself preparing to fight for the country that he loved. "Let's go," he said, nodding towards his son before looking towards the gates that led out onto the upper floor. "If this must be our last stand, then let's make it count, son. Let's give it everything we've got."

And in that moment Leo felt his heart swell with pride. He was proud to be the son of one of the most powerful and dedicated men in all of Vector, and he nodded, mirroring his father's expression as he climbed aboard the nearest suit of armor and prepared to join him in battle.

"You know I despise these things," said Leo, smiling halfheartedly as he adjusted his seat and flicked a switch to activate the Magitek armor. "These weapons are unnatural. We wouldn't even be in this situation if they hadn't decided to start testing on those poor creatures."

"I know, son. But that's why you're such a well respected member of the Imperial army, because even though you despise their methods, you do what you can for the well being of those around you."

"Really? Well, it's a shame the empire didn't consider the well being of the Espers before they started this war."

One by one the armored vehicles roared to life, the soldiers taking their place behind the father and son team. They were about to proceed down the hall when the flaming Esper on the outskirts of the forest decided to attack. This set off a chain reaction as more Espers followed suit and began their assault on the Gestahlian empire.

The Esper's jaws yawned, flames swirling at the back of its throat as it ran at the soldiers. A combination of fire and boiling magma spewed from its mouth, the scorching liquid dousing a pair of armored soldiers near the gate. Within seconds the steel began to melt from the intensity of the heat, with drops of molten metal pooling on the ground at their feet.

One of the soldiers began to scream, his features hideously distorted from the burning spray that splashed down the side of his face, neck and chest. His skin was black and splitting, with smoke rising in darkened tendrils from the corners of his eyes and mouth. It produced a ghastly smell not unlike that of a tender piglet roasting in the fires of a Hawaiian luau. The sickeningly sweet aroma filled the air, allowing the dying man to smell the scent of his own burning flesh before his skin began to melt.

A mixture of blood and other bodily fluids spilled onto the floor of the Magitek armor, saturating the cockpit with liquefied human remains. This gruesome sight spurred the soldiers into action, a hail of missiles erupting like machine gun fire as the Esper unleashed a second wave of seething magma. The missiles collided with the reptilian Esper, eliciting a howl of pain as it lifted its head, flames spewing from its gaping mouth as it roared in agony.

The creature lost its balance, limping and stumbling on three legs with blood gushing from a wound in its side. Its cries of pain signaled the others to attack, and the feathered Esper that perched atop the roof started flapping its wings. It swept its tail across the ceiling, iron bolts bursting from their seams and hitting the floor where Gestahl and his royal guard stood paralyzed with fright. Celes was the only one brave enough to come forward, drawing her blade as the ceiling collapsed and the Esper struck the ground with an almighty crash.

"Get back!" she shouted, moving to avoid the Esper's thrashing tail and flailing wings. The Esper somehow managed to turn around in the narrow hallway, its long, serpentine neck craning towards her as it hissed and growled. Its jaws closed with a snap around nothing but the air, and Celes seized the opportunity to attack, plunging her sword into the creature's eye.

Gestahl took a step back, inching towards the wall as the Esper reared up, shaking its head as though trying to rid itself of some irksome fly. He looked this way and that, hoping to find a secondary escape route. But the Esper was blocking the only path forward. "Fine then," he muttered, taking a deep breath and rolling up his sleeves. "It's time to take matters into my own hands."

The Esper threw its head back and roared, twisting and writhing in absolute torment, with blood pouring in scarlet streams down the side of its face. Celes tried to get close, her fingertips glowing with a pale, bluish light as she prepared to conjure a storm of snow and ice. Her magic froze the air around her, with flecks of snow clinging to the delicate curls that framed her face. It wasn't until the Esper swung its massive tail, forcing her to leap out of the way, that she fell back and noticed what Gestahl was doing.

Her eyes widened at the sight before her, the air shimmering with orbs of heat that he pulled from the center of the earth. The combination of heat and cold came together in a stunning display of light and magic, with bands of electricity illuminating the space between them. It was the energy moving between them that caused his wild mane of graying hair to stand on end, his eyes alight with the spark of madness.

This frightening image of their leader was enough to make the soldiers run for cover, taking shelter under the stairs, flattening themselves against the wall or throwing themselves on the floor, anything to escape the massive fireball that formed when the glowing orbs came together in the palm of his hand. And when it hit, the fireball burst and erupted in a series of explosions along the length of the Esper's body. These violent eruptions tore off strips of flesh, creating a hail of fur and feathers, blood spattering the walls and what was left of the ceiling.

Celes was barely able to suppress a scream as the Esper's severed hand landed on the floor, its bloody fingers twitching, opening and closing spasmodically as though it were attempting to crawl across the carpet. This brutal display of power was sickening, to say the very least. And if that weren't enough, the bastard was laughing, actually laughing, as the Esper's body dissolved into a crystalized lump of magic.

"Yes!" Gestahl exclaimed, shoving her against the wall and pouncing on the shard of magicite. "It's mine," he snarled, turning the stone over in hands. "All mine. And there's more where that came from. So much more, an infinite supply of magic!" He lifted his head, looking through the hole in the ceiling as blood slithered down the walls, dripping and splattering onto his face like raindrops pouring from the sky.

He appeared to be in a state of euphoric bliss, high on magic and drunk with power. It polluted his mind to the point where he couldn't see that his kingdom was on the verge of destruction. No, how could it possibly come to an end? It couldn't, it would never fall. Not in a million years, he thought, chuckling darkly as he pocketed the glowing crystal.

Celes watched him stand, brushing aside his bloodied strands of hair. 'I hope this kingdom falls', she thought, looking at him with disgust etched into the features of her face. 'And I hope he falls with it.'

\----------------

Leo had just made it onto the parapet when the second wave of Espers approached the city. The first had confronted the soldiers and Magitek knights at the palace gates, striking like waves upon rock, falling back then splitting into several groups as some continued to battle soldiers stationed at the gates. The rest of them had flown over the city, setting fire to rooftops and striking the panicked citizens with bolts of lightning.

General Leo gripped the joystick with both hands, his thumb hovering over the button that would unleash a hail of missiles upon the approaching Espers. He could never understand how Kefka found pleasure in such mindless destruction. There was no joy, no entertainment value, no reason beyond protecting the people that inhabited the city. But killing in order to prevent the death of others didn't seem like the answer, because violence would only spawn more hatred and aggression.

An Esper with greenish fur and tusks was the first to land amongst the soldiers stationed on the parapet, its fur bristling with electricity as it charged the ranks. Its speed was such that it was able to avoid detection, thunder striking against steel as it raced across the ground and launched itself at one of the men in Magitek armor. There was a sound like that of an ancient tree split in two by a bolt of lightning, and when Leo looked up he saw that the Esper had struck the side of his father's armor.

The draconian armor staggered sideways, the metal dented with sparks flying from where its left leg connected to the main body of the machine. "Go on!" Regulus shouted, working the controls as he attempted to keep the armor from toppling over. "I'll take care of this one!"

Leo was given one final glimpse of his father before chaos descended on the city. He punched the button that unleashed a barrage of missiles on the Espers, and the soldiers followed suit, guns aimed towards the sky as they attempted to follow the swarm of Espers that were threatening to overtake the city.

The Espers moved as a group, leaping and diving as they continued wreaking havoc throughout the city. One of the Espers managed to break away from the group, paws pounding the earth as it took to the streets. It was set upon by a group of Magitek knights, who made the mistake of trying to corner the raging beast at the end of a dark alley. The Esper's jaws opened wide, eyes gleaming in the firelight as a dark mass erupted from its gaping maw, knocking the knights to the ground. The force sent shockwaves through the city, forcing the remaining knights and soldiers to dive for cover behind the remnants of a burning building.

A second Esper joined the first, keeping pace with its companion as they leapt onto the roof of a nearby building. Spells exploded around them as they ran, the knights attacking from the ground with punishing waves of fire and ice. The Espers veered to avoid the spells, leaving behind a trail of glittering snowflakes and wet paw prints. They raced along the rooftops, gathering speed before leaping and rising into the air, where they hovered momentarily as an explosion of red and gold fireballs struck them from all angles. But the spells where ineffective, and the pair of Espers slammed into the ground, shattering the cobblestone before conjuring a wall of water that rose like a tsunami.

The city was engulfed in flames, and all that didn't burn was washed away by towering waves that swept through the city, drowning several unfortunate men, women and children that were caught in its path. Anguished weeping and moaning rang out in all directions, with broken bodies lying in the street, their remains covered in ash and blood. Most of the victims were either burned beyond recognition, or mutilated to the point where only pieces of them were found scattered about the city. This grisly scene was made worse in the low lying parts of Vector, where flood waters accumulated and human remains were seen bobbing in stagnant pools of water.

But even Espers were limited by how much magic they could use, and after a time they were forced to retreat, fleeing the city as their magic levels dropped. Those that stayed were either too weak or stubborn to leave, their last breath spent fighting the soldiers and knights that remained on the battlefield.

One of the Espers - the greenish boar that had chosen to attack Leo's father - lingered in the palace long after its companions had fled the city. It continued its battle with Regulus, bone clashing against steel as it launched itself through the air, sparks flying as it succeeded in tearing off the left arm of the draconian armor. The severed arm struck the ground with a hollow thud, clanging and clattering as it rolled across the parapet. Wires trailed from the empty socket like damaged tissues protruding from an open wound, and Regulus cursed under his breath, flipping a switch to recharge the machine's laser cannons.

He tried another switch, pressing a series of buttons as he took aim at the burly creature. The resulting clicks made his heart plummet into the pit of his stomach. "Out of ammo," he breathed, glancing fearfully at the lumbering beast before looking down at the controls.

His missiles spent, Regulus was forced to rely on the machine's dwindling supply of magic while he waited for the laser to recharge. If he could manage to strike before it had time to recover from the jarring blow that had taken the machine's arm, the battle would be over and he could see to those who'd been injured. But if the Esper struck first, there was a chance the armor might not be able to withstand another blow.

"Come on," he muttered, watching as the gauge passed the halfway point. The Esper snorted, its nostrils flaring as it staggered sideways, hooves scraping against the steel floor. He could see that the Esper was exhausted, its fur no longer bristling with electricity. Its mane of shaggy hair hung in limp, tangled strands, most of it dragging across the ground as it stumbled along, trying to maintain its balance.

Regulus looked up a third time when he heard the sound of heavy, metallic footsteps rise above the panicked voices and crackling flames. His son had come to his aid, hoping to drive the Esper out of Vector without anymore unnecessary bloodshed.

"Leo!" he called out, his spirits lifting at the sight of his young son. The gauge on the dashboard started beeping, indicating that the machine's lasers were fully charged. Regulus pulled back on the joy stick, turning it slightly as he took aim at the wounded Esper. He would fire at the ground, near the creature's hooves in hopes of scaring it off. But the noise of the approaching vehicle startled the Esper, who loosed another of its harsh, squealing cries before leaping onto the balcony overlooking the city.

Regulus started to turn, the scene playing out in slow motion as Leo watched the creature leap onto the back of the armored vehicle. The Esper's hooves tore at the back of Regulus' shirt as the creature scrabbled for purchase, the edges sharp like daggers, slicing through muscle and flaying him in bloodlines that ran from his shoulderblade to the waistband of his pants. Blood spurted onto the dashboard, painting the floor with shades of crimson as the Esper lowered its head and drove its tusks into Regulus' back. He was then lifted into the air, the Esper's tusks protruding from his chest as the creature shook him like a ragdoll before the Magitek armor started to collapse.

The armor struck the ground with an almighty crash, spilling its contents on the floor at Leo's feet. The Esper, now satisfied with its victory, sped off into the night, leaving the General alone with his dying father.


	53. Beginning The Ascent

Leo was barely conscious of his actions as he dismounted the metallic vehicle. His fingers felt numb, his limbs disconnected from the rest of his body as he struggled with the clasp that held the safety harness in place. He wasn't even aware of the fact that he was screaming, calling his father as though the sound of his voice might revive him.

He landed heavily on the steel floor, his legs providing little support as he stumbled forward, blood clinging to the underside of his boots and leaving behind a trail of red, wet footprints. He could see where the Esper's tusks had pierced his father's back, the wounds partially visible beneath ragged strips of clothing. The only thing worse than these gruesome wounds were the low, gurgling sounds that accompanied Regulus' efforts to draw air into his lungs.

The warm winds changed direction, bringing with it the sound of Kefka's voice, and Leo gasped, eyes widening as he looked around, fearing that the deranged clown had found his way into the palace.

"You're a fool, Leo," the voice whispered, pausing as a sudden outburst of childish giggles dribbled past his garishly painted lips. "I've told you time and time again that none of this has any meaning or value. There is only death, hopelessness and shattered dreams. You think you're better than me, don't you? You thought that by refusing magic you could avoid the horrors of war, and that strength alone would protect your loved ones. But no matter which path you choose the result is still the same."

Leo failed to suppress a broken sob that escaped amid continued laughter from the hideous mage, his transparent form following the General across the parapet as he approached his father and dropped to his knees beside him. His hands were shaking with hesitation, as though he were afraid to touch his bloodied form. Was this really happening? Or was he simply too horrified?

"Go on," Kefka hissed, grinning at the younger man. "Avoiding it won't make it go away, nor will it ease the pain you must be feeling."

Shakily, he lifted his father off the ground, carefully easing him onto his back and positioning him so that his head rested in his lap. It took effort to avoid the gaping wounds that yawned like bleeding caverns in his back and chest, some of them deep enough to reveal shards of bone and torn strips of muscle.

"Father." The word sounded hoarse, choked, as though it barely wanted to pass between his lips. "Father, please... Can you hear me?" he asked timidly, like a child who'd climbed into his parent's bed and was attempting to rouse them in the middle of the night.

Regulus coughed, his lashes lifting as he monetarily regained consciousness. Not knowing what else to do, Leo held the dying man against his chest, cradling him the way Regulus had done when Leo was an infant.

"I'm here, father," he murmured, tears streaming down his face, leaving trails in the dust and ash that coated his skin. The harsh sounds that accompanied Regulus' breathing slowly began to fade, and Leo felt him shudder as his final breath left him in the form of a gurgling groan.

His face contorted, and, not caring that the other men were staring at him, Leo closed his eyes and silently wept, still cradling his father's corpse. He remained in that position for some time, until the sound of Kefka's shrill laughter pulled him away from his grief.

The jester was sitting atop the ruined suit of armor, invisible to all but the grieving General. And as he lifted his head, looking past the rising columns of smoke that dotted the city, Leo couldn't help but wonder if he too was losing his mind.

"What do you want, Kefka?" he asked, a bitter note of resentment in his tone. "What are you doing here? How is this even possible?" His heart leapt into his throat as a possible explanation for this bizarre apparition entered his mind, one that made perfect sense, considering the overwhelming might of the creatures that destroyed the city. "Were you killed when the Espers were released from their home world?" he asked, hesitating before asking the question that lingered in the forefront of his mind.

Kefka found the question rather amusing, and he chuckled, leaning forward with his hands on his knees until he was almost falling from his metallic perch. "So sorry to disappoint you, Leo. But unlike your dearly departed father, I'm still very much alive!" He lifted his head, gazing thoughtfully at the night sky. "I know my place in the universe," he said, swinging his feet like a child in a highchair. "I am closer to where I'm supposed to be. Closer to the edge of eternity." He shifted slightly, and the torn collar of his shirt slid past his shoulder, revealing one in a set of four wings. "Everything that begins has an end. I see the end coming. I see darkness spreading. I see death. One way or another this war is going to end, and I will be the one who decides when and where it happens."

Lightning flared across the skies, transforming the magician's body into a silhouette against the clouds. Kefka closed his eyes, breathing deeply as the energy began to dissipate. It flowed like stardust through his veins, softly shimmering as it exited through his fingertips, returning to its place of origin.

He opened his eyes to the sound of thunder, and saw that he was kneeling in front of the cave leading to the sealed gate. "Yes," he hissed, tightening his grip on the shard of magicite. Kefka placed the crystal in his pocket, his knees against the earth as he wrapped his arms around her, shielding her from the rising winds that raced across the barren hillside.

A storm was brewing on the horizon, with bruised and blackened clouds gathering in the skies above Crescent Island. The Espers had left the city of Vector, but even now their strength could be felt from a distance, the earth trembling beneath his feet as he lifted her into his arms and carried her away from the sealed gate.

He continued moving downhill until he reached a circle of trees, sheltered from the chilling winds by a wall of rock on the eastern edge of the grove. It was the perfect place, providing just the right amount of cover so he could work his magic and revive his pretty little puppet.

Kefka knelt down in the center of the grove, and gently lowered her onto the barren earth. She looked so small and fragile in his arms, her forehead bruised with dried blood streaked across her face. His fingers found her hair, brushing it aside, his eyes lingering on her face. A look of confusion stole over him, his brow furrowed in what could only be described as a mixture of sorrow and uncertainty. He felt something for her once, in the days before his mind slowly began to rot. It was the type of affection a brother would have for his younger sister. But this... What was this? Was it possession for the sake of owning what he thought was his? Or was it because she could ease his mind, silencing the voices that haunted him night and day?

"Terra," he whispered, his hand gliding past her shoulder, stopping at her hip where he dug his nails into her skin. He didn't know what he wanted anymore, and he tore at her dress in frustration, shredding the fabric he'd sewn together in the days when he still made her clothing. An anguished wail slid past his lips, building into a scream as pale orbs of light formed in the palms of his hands. He positioned his hands over her prone form, one hand hovering over her head, the other at her side where his claws had left ragged gashes stretching from the corner of her hip to the middle of her abdomen.

And then he saw it, a flutter of movement as her lashes lifted to reveal cloudy, green eyes. She had regained consciousness, if only for a moment, before a sudden cry rang out in the night, and he looked up to see Locke running towards the grove.

Moonlight glinted off the edge of his blade, his tangled hair flying out behind him on the wind. "You leave her alone!" Locke shouted, his dagger slicing through the air as Kefka leapt back, widening the gap between him and his precious doll.

Kefka stumbled, taking a moment to recover from the interruption. Locke saw this as an opportunity to attack, rushing forward and attempting to plunge his blade into Kefka's chest. But the mage was quick, lashing out and seizing him by the wrist.

Time ground to a halt, his heart beating in his throat as he gazed into the eyes of madness. There was a pause, a moment where he realized the foolishness of his actions, before lightning flashed between them and Kefka fell back, ducking to avoid the stream of electricity that circled the grove.

The sudden flash of light and movement took Locke by surprise, erupting in a shower of sparks that lit the grove like a barrage of fireworks. "Yeah!" he blurted out, raising his voice in an attempt to seem confident. He remembered the magicite he'd placed in his pocket, and quickly removed the glowing shard, fumbling with it before holding it up for Kefka to see. "Yeah, that's right. I've got magic too!"

Kefka turned to him with a look of fury burning in his eyes, his painted features twisting into an ugly sneer. It was clear that this troublesome thief hadn't the slightest clue what he was doing, but it was amusing, watching him act as though he'd done this sort of thing before.

"Splendid!" Kefka exclaimed, still glaring at him with absolute hatred etched into the lines of his face. "And I suppose you want an award for your accidental use of magic, hmm? Well, I've got a better idea! How about I give you a lesson on how to properly use that pretty little piece of magicite you've acquired?" He raised his right hand, an amber ball of fire blossoming at his fingertips, and hurled the flaming mass at the unfortunate thief.

The fireball exploded on contact with a nearby tree, igniting the leaves as Locke ducked beneath the burning branches and sprinted across the clearing. A second fireball followed the first, then another, each one lighting up the night sky like a comet. Before long the canopy was engulfed in flames, a flurry of burning leaves drifting past as Locke backed against the wall of rocks, watching the embers rise towards the heavens. He looked down at the glowing shard in his hand, and mentally kicked himself for not asking Terra how to use it.

'That lightning spell was a fluke,' he thought, gripping the magicite until its jagged edges bit into his fingers. 'It must have come from the Esper inside this thing, because it sure as hell didn't come from me.' He hesitated before peering out from behind the rocks, and saw Kefka preparing to launch another fireball in his direction.

"Well?" Kefka's voice rang out in the night, mingling with a clap of thunder that exploded overhead. "Are you going to come out and play? Or am I going to have to flush you out like a rat?"

Locke swore under his breath, his chin lifting as he watched the clouds gathering overhead. And then it came to him; without thinking or knowing how it happened, the incantation formed on his lips, his senses dulled as magic pooled in the center of his being, spilling outwards and overflowing the edges as lightning sprang from his fingertips.

Fire and lightning met in the center of the clearing, with golden sparks and embers scattering across the barren earth. Locke's feet left the ground, his arms held out at his sides with electricity crackling in the palms of his hands. He raised his hands above his head, his left knee bent so that his foot was behind him, his right leg extended with his toes pointing towards the earth. The shining orbs came together, forming one massive ball of electricity with arcing bands reaching towards the treetops.

Locke had him in his sights, the deranged jester watching, spellbound by this stunning display of magic. He hurled the electric orb at his opponent, only to watch Kefka vanish in a flurry of swirling embers.

Barely a second had passed before Kefka materialized behind him, landing a kick to the small of his back and sending him sprawling on the ground. Locke was nearly choking on a cloud of dust and ash when Kefka flew at him, his lean form surrounded by undulating waves of heat. It was sheer luck that caused him to react in time, rolling to the side as Kefka plunged his fist into the earth.

Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, his body suspended in midair as a spiderweb of cracks split the earth where his fist made contact with the ground. Kefka's lip curled in a sneer, and Locke watched him turn, the scene playing out in slow motion as the magician prepared to strike.

Lightning flared once more in the palm of his hand, cloaking his dagger in golden currents of streaming light, and Locke thrust his dagger at Kefka, hoping to land an attack before the mage pelted him with a barrage of fireballs. The blade left behind a shimmering trail as it cut through the air, missing Kefka by a hairsbreadth as the mage vanished once again. Locke barely had time to register his disappearance before Kefka reappeared beside him, his arm outstretched, scarlet flames dancing across the surface of his fingertips.

Kefka smirked, his features illuminated by the flames that had spread to consume the trees. Locke's eyes widened, his heart pounding a fierce tempo against his ribs. He could feel the energy within the crystal urging him forward, even though the rational part of his mind told him it was impossible, that he couldn't survive being fired upon at such close range. And yet he managed to leap several feet off the ground, his heels and upper body curving gracefully towards the earth as he turned in midair, his hand jerking forward as he flung the shimmering dagger at Kefka.

The mage spun around, his cloak moving like liquid silk, streaming out behind him as a multitude of scarves and feathers blossomed on the wind. He was able to sense Locke's movements, a shield made from dazzling points of light materializing in front of him before his opponent touched the ground. These bluish strands of luminescence moved with him as Kefka raised his hands towards the sky, the dagger piercing his shield and grazing his left arm as it sailed past. The spell he cast wasn't enough to block physical attacks or weapons. But as the blade passed through the enchanted shield, it was stripped of its elemental qualities, until all that remained was a single bolt of lightning that ricocheted off the shield and was reflected back at Locke.

All of this happened very quickly, with no more than a few seconds passing between each movement. Locke was hit with his own spell before his mind could register what was happening, his body suspended above the burning grove like a human marionette.

A sudden, explosive laughter rose above the storm, with Kefka dissolving the barrier and tugging on the enchanted strings that held him place against the night sky. "Dance, my pretty little puppet! Dance!" Kefka screeched, kicking up his heels and roaring with laughter. It gave him great pleasure to watch as Locke convulsed in midair, his limbs jerking and flailing as electricity surged through his veins. He then motioned with his hand as though pulling back a curtain, and Locke's body was cast aside, striking the earth with enough force to drive the air from his lungs.

A sound halfway between a wheeze and a gasp clawed its way up Locke's throat. The shard of magicite slid from his grasp, rolling across the ground where it came to rest in the center of the grove. He was close to blacking out when a shadow passed before his eyes, followed by a warm gust of wind as Kefka's voice uttered a single word.

"Breathe."

Air rushed into his lungs, his chest heaving as he inhaled deeply. In then out again, his body incapable of movement beyond this simple action. Locke closed his eyes, forcing himself to draw another breath. He then felt his heart stall momentarily, lodging itself in the region of his Adam's apple when he opened his eyes and saw Kefka squatting beside him, his face inches away from his own.

"Well now," Kefka began, speaking in an almost conversational tone. "Not finding magic as glamorous as you thought, now are we?" He cocked his head to the side, and a blue feather fell out of his hair. "No," he hissed, his eyes narrowing. "Magic isn't the glorious dream you think it is. People pay with their lives, and with their sanity, for the gift you now possess. I should know. I'm one of them." A wide grin spread from ear to ear, and he cackled before falling silent as quickly and suddenly as switching off a light.

The thief swallowed hard, perspiration forming on his brow and soaking into the fabric of his bandana. He realized at once that the most frightening aspect of Kefka's personality wasn't his lack of empathy. No, that was to be expected when you were dealing with a psychopath. It was the way he shifted moods, moving suddenly from anger to elation then back again. This bizarre behavior created an air of uncertainty, watching, waiting, like the movement of the tides, drawing back then surging forward. To make matters worse, he was close enough to see the self inflicted wounds on Kefka's face, the torn strips of flesh dangling like raw pieces of meat. The sight was nauseating, and he wondered vaguely if Kefka had the ability to heal himself, or if he was going to stay that way, looking like something that had been run over in the street then given a fresh coat of paint to make it look nice and new again.

'No,' he thought, trembling as Kefka positioned himself so that he was standing with one foot on either side of him. 'No amount of makeup can hide what he's become. It only makes it worse, like pouring glitter and chocolate sprinkles on a pile of puke.'

"Everyone who walks with you dies," said Kefka, speaking in a voice of deathly calm. "The blond girl, little miss glitter blizzard, she'll die too." He glanced at Terra, nodding at her prone form. "Did you ever tell her about the one who came before? I believe her name was Rachel Gardner."

"What?" Locke lifted his head, his breath sticking in his throat once more. His voice abandoned him, his mind reeling, unable to comprehend how this clownish mage knew about his past.

Kefka looked at him and grinned. "I see everything, you know. One of the many perks of being a god." He then held his hand in front of Locke's face, fingers curling as he pulled back slowly, and the thief shuddered, his breath leaving him in the form of a thin, bluish smoke that slithered past his lips.

"Yes, Rachel," said Kefka, speaking more to himself than to the exhausted thief. The bluish tendrils shone with a pale, iridescent light, twisting and weaving as they blossomed into a cloud of shining mist. "Born and raised in the town of Kohlingen. You were living happily together until the accident. And on the day before her birthday, too. Such a shame," he added, without any trace of emotion in his voice.

They watched as a pair of ghostly figures materialized from out of the mist, their ethereal bodies taking the shape of Locke and Rachel. These figures then began acting out scenes from their past, and for the first time in several years Locke heard her voice, the sound echoing faintly from within luminous strands.

"I know in my heart that you are the one," said Rachel, holding the hand that belonged to her spectral companion. "You make me happy, Locke. There isn't anyone else I'd rather be with. Just you, and only you, forever."

Locke lifted his head off the ground, his hand shaking as he reached towards her. "Rachel," he whispered, still staring, mesmerized by what he was seeing. He watched her brush the hair out of his face, a smile tugging on the corners of her lips as the mirror image of himself placed his arms around her. Tears came to his eyes, leaving trails in the dust that clung to his cheeks, and slowly the phantom forms came together, with Rachel leaning in close as her spectral lover pressed his lips against hers.

"That's private," said Locke, now finally managing to look away from the images of his past. He glared at the crazed magician, breathing heavily as he was overcome with a mix of emotions. His fists clenched, fingernails scraping against the earth and leaving furrows in the soil. He wanted nothing more than to wipe that ever loving smile off Kefka's face, to pull his girlfriend from the remaining particles of mist, take her home and pretend this never happened. But it wasn't that simple. Nothing in life ever was, and dealing with Kefka Palazzo only made it worse.

Kefka motioned with his hand, waving it as though he were attempting to clear the air of a great deal of smoke. "Not to me," he said dryly. "Not to the god of magic, it isn't."

"You're no god," Locke spat in contempt, half glancing at the silvery image as it faded from sight. "You're just a circus freak with delusions of grandeur!"

There was a sudden flash, flames igniting in the palm of his hand as Kefka lunged at him. He was seconds away from reducing the thief to a smoldering pile of ash when his muscles tensed, and he was seized by sudden pain that flared to life in his back. The thief, who had closed his eyes and braced himself for the attack, held his breath for a moment before one eyelid cracked open, slowly, and he saw Kefka frozen with a ball of fire still nestled between his fingers.

Kefka's eyes were open wide, staring into the darkness that surrounded the burning grove. His mouth opened in a silent scream, unable to speak or breathe. He couldn't, for he had been through this before when he had a delayed reaction to the magicite, and knew that any movement, any attempt to draw air into his lungs, would result in searing pain that ripped through his body and left him writhing in agony.

Locke was still, his breath coming in shallow, measured gasps as he fought to maintain his composure. Something was wrong. Why else would Kefka have stopped when he had the perfect opportunity to kill him?

His eyes traveled the length of Kefka's body until he spied a faint glow emanating from the mage's pocket. The magicite had begun to shine, its emerald light pulsing in time with the rhythm of Kefka's heart. He started backing away, his eyes never leaving the pained expression on Kefka's face as he scooted across the dirt. A second passed between them, then another, the light flaring as Kefka's pulse increased. He saw the wizard's fingers twitch, the flames dissolving, absorbing into his skin as Kefka lurched forward.

The magician was falling, unable to stop himself from screaming as he doubled over and collapsed onto his side. His cries of agony sent birds fluttering from the trees, rising like a dark cloud and fleeing towards the horizon. There was nothing but pain, blinding, ripping, burning pain that spread from his back throughout the rest of his body. He was helpless. The thief could have killed him if he wanted to. But Locke panicked, frightened by what he was seeing and unable to understand what was wrong.

Locke was on his feet in an instant, terror driving him as he sprinted across the grove. His heart was nearly bursting from his chest when he came across Terra's prone form lying on her stomach in the dirt. "It's okay, Terra," he said gently, doing his best to comfort her as he lifted her off the ground. She responded by gripping his shoulders, holding on tightly as he ran with her downhill.

He kept running long after they'd left the grove, thunder erupting from the clouds as the storm reached the mountains. The skies opened up, unleashing a torrent of rain as he ran for his life. He was nearing the bottom of the hill when he caught a glimpse of something silver, and looked back to see lightning reflecting off the surface of Edgar's sword.

They'd been separated when Locke gave chase after Kefka, leaving Edgar behind to battle a group of monsters that ambushed them near the mouth of the cave. Though it came as no surprise, seeing the frantic look in his eyes as he ran after the fleeing mage. Edgar knew that Locke was still searching for that which would set him free, releasing him from his guilt and allowing him to move on with his life. Until then he wouldn't stop chasing Terra and Celes, as well as any other woman that happened to cross his path.

"Come on!" Locke yelled over the noise of the storm. "I've got her! Let's get out of here and head back to the airship."

Edgar nodded, feeling relief spread through his chest, loosening his muscles and making it easier for him to breathe. He hadn't realized how tense he was until now, his thoughts focused on his troubled friend and whether or not he would get himself killed by going after Kefka. Last time he hadn't been so fortunate, and with Terra wounded and Celes missing in action, there was little he could do if his friend had been seriously injured.

There was always next time, he thought, finally catching up with Locke as they neared the bridge that lead to the observation post. But for now they were safe. They'd been given the chance to live another day, narrowly escaping the crazed magician who'd collapsed under the weight of his own transformative power.


	54. Gathering Of The Fallen

There would be no rest for the people of Vector that night, its citizens coming together in an effort to contain the fires that spread throughout the city. A cavernous gash cut through the center of town, with floodwaters pooling in its depths, fires burning on either side of it. Anguished weeping and moaning rang out from all directions. And in the middle of it all was Leo, still sitting atop the parapet overlooking the city.

His hands had gone numb, unfeeling as the soldier held his father's lifeless body and eased it from his grasp. A sense of unreality had settled over him, one that muted the sound of crackling flames and crying voices. He saw the faces of those around him, some staring at the ground, unable to watch as Regulus' body was placed on a stretcher. Others had chosen to conceal their emotions beneath a stoic mask, their lips set in a straight line as a sheet was placed over the fallen General, covering his torso and then his face.

"It's alright, sir," a voice said. "The Emperor will understand if you need to be excused for the remainder of the evening."

"No," Leo whispered, stumbling forward as soon as they'd helped him to his feet. His fingers closed around the metal railing, eyes scanning the city as he surveyed the damage. He was distantly aware of the fact that there were others in need of assistance, and that as General of the Imperial army he was expected to serve his country and do what he could for its citizens. But there was little he could do in a situation such as this.

"I can't help these people," he murmured, fresh tears spilling down the sides of his face. He wanted to help, his heart aching, urging him forward. But there were too many that had fallen, their bodies lying in the streets, some burned beyond recognition while others had been mutilated or crushed beneath the weight of broken buildings.

"It's alright, sir," the voice repeated, causing a sudden rage to ignite within his heart.

It wasn't alright. None of this was alright, and there was nothing he or anyone else could do to improve the situation they were in. It made him want to scream, to curse the world for condemning them to this fate.

The General groaned, his head down, perspiration beading on his forehead and trickling down the sides of his face. The pressure on his shoulder increased, the world spinning as one of his men guided him away from the railing. His steps faltering, Leo closed his eyes and leaned against the young man beside him, using him for support as they made their way downstairs. And that's when he heard it, the volume rising, rushing forward like a tidal wave of sound, and his eyes opened, his senses assaulted by the sights and sounds of those that had been killed in battle.

These images continued to burn with startling clarity, making their presence known whenever he closed his eyes. He didn't want to sleep, didn't want to fall into the nightmare that awaited him just beyond the door. What good would it do to rest his weary mind when he was simply exchanging one nightmare for another? But his body betrayed him, giving in to grief, to exhaustion so complete it was inescapable. He wasn't even aware of the people that surrounded him, his eyes closing as his vision was clouded with the images of war.

\----------------

Hours passed before he opened his eyes, wincing as a bright sliver of sunlight shone through the gap in the curtains. A gust of wind sent the curtains rippling, the sunlight dancing across the walls, moving across his face. It moved in waves of light and dark, and he lifted a hand, feeling something cool and damp draped across his forehead.

"What?"

The word left him in the form of a groan, his voice low and groggy. The last thing he remembered was looking out over the burning city, watching as blackened spires of smoke rose towards the sky. He didn't know how he got here, lying on his back in the parlor, the plush lining of the sofa cushioning his tired, aching muscles.

He started slightly when he heard someone speak his name, then turned his head and saw Celes standing beside the couch.

"Take it easy, Leo," she said, her cold tone doing little to hide the aggravation that shone in the corners of her eyes.

"Celes?" Leo sat up slowly, his head lifting off the pillow with one hand holding the cloth in place on his forehead. "What's the matter? You look..." He hesitated for a fraction of a second before continuing. "Upset. And that's putting it mildly," he added after a moment of thought.

Celes huffed out an irritated sigh before motioning with a nod towards the hall. "It's because of him," she said simply. "I wanted to see you as soon as I heard about what happened, but I got stuck babysitting his royal highness for three hours. Not that he needs my protection," she said, pausing as she reached for the cloth and placed it in the bowl of water on the coffee table. "He killed one of the Espers on the way downstairs. And if given the opportunity, he probably would have killed the whole lot of them."

"So it's true then," said Leo, speaking slowly and with much hesitation. "He's really gone, isn't he?"

It was a foolish question. He knew that before the words left his mouth. But he couldn't help hoping that he was wrong, and that somehow his father had survived. It made him wonder if this was what Kefka meant when he spoke of having foolish hopes and dreams, like ignorant children blind to the ways of the world, not knowing that death waits for them around the corner.

Celes came forward, her expression softening as she placed her arms around him. "I'm sorry, Leo," she murmured, patting his back in an effort to comfort the grieving General. "Your father was a good man. It's clear that he raised you right and taught you to be a kind, considerate person. I just wish there were more people like him in this world."

His breathing hitched when he felt the cold radiating from her skin, and he shuddered at the feel of her icy touch. It was a wonder he could feel anything, his body still numb from grief, his mind reeling from the events that had taken place during the past twenty-four hours. But he was too exhausted to cry at this point. He just stared at the wall behind her, incredulous that they had survived, and his mind emptied itself of all thought.

After a pause, Leo continued shakily. "Where is he?" he asked, knowing full well that he would have to deal with his father's passing sooner or later.

"He's with the others." There was another short break as Celes gave him a final pat on the back before releasing him. "The people that were killed have been brought to the palace. They're being kept in the great hall while we wait for their families to arrive."

Leo was staring at his knees, his thoughts slowly coming back as he listened to her speak. He realized that there had been more casualties than he first thought. So many that they'd been forced to store them in the great hall, a place which was normally reserved for the Emperor's lavish banquets. Which meant that the death toll could easily rise into the hundreds before the day was through.

He finally looked up at Celes, whose expression was miserable. "I have to go," he said, his hands on the cushions as he forced himself onto his feet.

"Leo," she said gently, raising a hand and reaching towards him. "Stay here and rest. You don't have to do this right away."

"Yes, I do." He turned away and his chest convulsed in a choke. "I have to see that he's taken care of." His voice trailed off, finally reaching the point where he was unable to speak.

Celes looked at him in silence, nodding once to show her understanding. There was nothing she could do but watch him leave, his footsteps retreating down the hall as he made his way downstairs.

\-----------------

While the inhabitants of Vector were picking up the pieces of their shattered lives, Edgar and Locke had escaped the cave and were on their way back to the airship. Once on board, they carried Terra to Setzer's room and deposited her on the bed, with Sabin following close behind, rummaging through his pack in search of potions and phoenix down.

The monk looked up when he heard his brother cursing under his breath, and saw Locke slump against the side of the bed.

Edgar was beside him in an instant, his arm around Locke's chest in an effort to keep him from collapsing. "Doesn't anyone aboard this ship know any healing spells?" he asked, his eyes moving from Sabin to Setzer then back again. Silence followed his question, broken only by the sound of Locke's pained groans.

"I'm alright," Locke muttered, swaying slightly as Edgar released him and took a step back. His vision blurred, and for a moment he couldn't tell up from down as a sudden wave of dizziness made the room spin like a ferris wheel. "Just... gotta lay down a minute..." He had already begun to collapse before finishing his sentence, sliding down the bedpost where he lay on his back next to Terra.

"I've been trying to learn healing spells with the Seraph magicite," said Sabin, his head down as he continued searching through his supplies. His efforts were soon rewarded when he located some phoenix down and a half empty potion bottle. "Though I'm far from mastering it, I could probably take care of him once I'm finished with her."

Locke groaned. "Sabin," he said at length. "Magic isn't all it's cracked up to be. I tried casting a lightning spell on Kefka, and now I can hardly move. I don't even know how it happened. It's like one minute I was fine, and the next thing I know every thought I've ever had just flew right out of my head."

Edgar took a step back, standing off to the side as his brother opened the packet and poured the feathers into his hand. He realized with a twinge of regret that they knew nothing about the craft they were attempting to learn. So far Sabin was the only one who'd made any real progress, thanks in part to his spiritual lifestyle and training. But the rest of them hadn't the slightest idea what they were doing or how it would effect their bodies afterwards.

He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ribbons that bound his golden locks, then leaned against the wall with a weary sigh. "Is that going to be enough to revive her?" he asked, eyeing his sibling as the younger of the two brothers paused to examine Terra's injuries.

"Yeah, I think so. But I doubt if we're going to have enough potion." Sabin brushed aside a lock of her hair, noting the dried blood that clung to the delicate strands. "Any idea who did this to her?" he asked, frowning at the bruised and bloody mass on the side of her head.

"Three guesses who," said Locke, though he already knew what Sabin's first guess would be.

"Kefka."

"Exactly." Locke shifted slightly before rolling onto his side. He felt ready to sleep right where he was, but first he had to see that Terra was alright. "When I arrived, Kefka was leaning over her with some kind of weird light in his hands. If I hadn't found them when I did, she'd probably be dead by now."

Sabin moved towards the opposite side of the bed, his hands suspended a few inches over her body. A warm, amber glow surrounded the feathers, spilling from between his fingers like sunbeams laced with flecks of gold. The light flickered, absorbing into her skin before the feathers disintegrated, turning to ash in his hands.

A moment passed before she began to wake up, her lashes lifting to reveal cloudy, green eyes. Some feeble attempt at language dribbled past her lips, and her head lolled to the side, wincing as she felt a sharp stab of pain radiating down the side of her face.

Locke reached towards her, holding her hand as Sabin tried coaxing her into drinking what little potion was left in the bottle. At first she resisted, not knowing where she was or what was going on. The last thing she remembered was flames encircling the grove, with Kefka leaning over her, muttering incantations as he attempted to heal her.

Edgar turned to his brother, a look of concern etched into the lines on his face. "This girl needs medical attention," he said, tapping the headboard with his index finger. "Our supplies are running low, and we need to find out what became of those Espers."

"What are you suggesting?" asked Setzer, coming forward to join their conversation. "That we tempt fate by following them?"

"Yes, Setzer." Edgar nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Though I doubt it will be difficult to locate them. If they continue their rampage across the country, we can follow the path of destruction they leave behind. But first we need to restock our supplies and find a town with adequate medical care."

Edgar and Setzer turned towards the bed, the sound of breaking glass drawing them away from their conversation. Sabin had administered the potion, the empty bottle falling from his hands as Terra gave a sudden cry, her voice startling the young monk.

"The Espers..." Terra's breathing hitched, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain that spiked in her temple. "Please, no. No, you didn't..." She trembled at the horrific images that passed through her mind, each one showing fragments of the Espers' rampage through Vector.

Her chest rose and fell with deep, heaving breaths, sobbing as she felt their pain and frustration at finding their loved ones had passed away. She was swept up in a wave of grief, their calls of sorrow echoing in her mind. They had gone in search of their friends and family, combing through the wreckage of the ruined factory. But the halls had fallen silent, the great machines halting their progress. One by one the lights went out, the buildings engulfed in flames as the Espers' fury consumed the land, their emotions strong enough to reach her in the airship.

Locke gripped her hand, feeling her tremble beneath his skin. He looked to Setzer, his voice no more than a frightened whisper when he spoke. "Didn't you say that the Imperials fled the observation post before we arrived?"

"Indeed they did." The gambler lowered his gaze, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing the onyx gemstone on his left hand. "It's a wonder the Espers didn't burn through there first. But if I had to wager a guess, I'd say they went to the Imperial capital."

Edgar suddenly bolted from the room, running upstairs and out onto the deck of the Blackjack. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard the familiar voice of Cyan, calling to him while Gau whimpered and howled.

"Sir Edgar!" he exclaimed when he saw the King approach the wheel. "Sir Edgar, what does thou see on the horizon?" he asked, nodding in the direction of the eastern forest.

A towering plume of smoke was rising above the trees, drifting on the northerly winds that carried it towards the sea. A flock of birds could be seen fleeing the forest, their screeching forms numbering in the hundreds. The noise from the birds frightened Gau, who crouched on all fours, cowering behind Cyan as they flew past the airship.

Edgar turned slowly, barely able to look away from the spire of smoke on the horizon. "Cyan," he said slowly. "You probably won't be pleased to hear this, but we're going to set a course for the Imperial capital. I know it doesn't sound like the wisest decision to make, but we need to find out what happened there."

\-----------------

It was now the end of the longest day, the fires smoldering as bodies were pulled from the debris. Celes worked alongside the medical personnel, helping to heal those that had been injured. Others had been given the task of burying the dead, adding their bodies to the mass graves that sprung up overnight. Those that could be identified were taken to the palace where they would be collected by their families, while dozens were left wondering what became of their loved ones.

The sun was beginning to set when Celes returned to the palace, making it halfway up the steps before sinking to the ground in a state of total exhaustion. She was vaguely aware of the cold steel beneath her skin, the warm winds blowing strands of hair across her face as she collapsed onto her side. In her hand she held the last bottle of ether, now empty after spending several hours desperately trying to save those that had been injured in the attack.

The bottle slid from her grasp, clinking against the steps before coming to rest at her feet. The world began to fall away, and for several minutes she lingered on the edge of sleep. She listened to the voices of passing soldiers, of civilians coming and going with their families, until the sounds became like static on the radio, with one voice indistinguishable from the rest. She was half asleep when the tone shifted, laced with curiosity and concern as yet another unexpected guest entered the city.

A shadow passed over the empire, and for a moment its citizens feared that the Espers had returned. But when Celes opened her eyes, she was surprised, and a little bit relieved, to see Setzer piloting the Blackjack over the city.

A moment passed before her heart plummeted into the pit of her stomach, realization dawning on her as she looked to the soldiers that were milling about the city. Some of them had raised their weapons, the knights that hadn't exhausted themselves gathering what remained of their energy as they prepared to attack.

"Hold your fire!" Celes commanded, raising a hand to signal the troops. "You need to conserve your magic," she added, hearing murmurs of disagreement from the knights and soldiers. She knew there were those who still doubted her loyalty, and seeing her call off an attack on the Returners didn't help the situation.

She pressed her palm against the ground, her muscles aching in protest against this subtle movement. It was with great effort that she forced herself onto her feet, exhaustion stealing her last ounce of strength as she raised a hand and used it to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun.

From the look of things, Setzer was debating whether or not to land and have a closer look at the devastation that had taken place. But seeing the knights and soldiers gathered on the palace steps, as well as Celes standing at the head of the group, made him hesitant to enter the city.

Edgar, Sabin and Cyan gathered on the deck of the Blackjack, standing side by side, watching the crowd that had gathered on the steps. Two figures dressed in flowing, red and white robes exited the palace and stood on either side of Celes. They spoke briefly with her, nodding and motioning towards the airship, the figure on the left making a wide, sweeping motion with his arms. After a moment had passed, Celes reached up and unhooked the clasp holding her cloak in place. She then turned around so that she was facing the airship, and waved the silken material as a sign of surrender.

"They've given up," said Edgar, blinking and looking at her in surprise, her pale cloak rippling on the wind. This action, although far from being hostile, made it appear as though she truly was working for the empire, and Cyan scoffed at her, gripping his sword and turning towards the King.

"Did I not say that she is a traitor?" Cyan spat in contempt. "It is within these walls that we see her for what she truly is."

Edgar was silent, listening as the samurai's boots clicked against the hardwood floor. Cyan had chosen to walk away, his mind set in the belief that Celes remained loyal to the empire, and all the while Edgar felt a growing sense of unease twisting in the pit of his stomach.

Celes had always been one of them. Seeing her now, broken by defeat and standing in the ruins of what was once the most powerful nation on earth, caused him to feel a sharp pang of regret.

The King hung his head, taking a step back and turning towards Setzer. "It's alright," he said slowly, his voice laden with grief. "They mean us no harm. You can land in the fields north of here. From there we'll make our way into the city."

This was something that had to be done, for the sake of the world and those who dreamt of peace for themselves and their families. But to turn against one of their own, and allow Kefka's words to cloud their judgment when she had proven herself time and time again, was enough to drive off what little joy they felt in succeeding against the empire.


	55. Fallen Angel

The airship landed in a field located a short distance from the empire, and one by one they exited the Blackjack, forming a group that consisted of Edgar, Sabin and Cyan. Locke stayed behind with Terra, while Setzer remained on board in case they had to make a quick getaway. Gau also chose to stay behind, lingering at Terra's beside while Locke did his best to care for her.

When Celes saw them walking down the street, just the three of them with Locke and Terra nowhere in sight, she couldn't help wondering if her friends still thought she had betrayed them. If that were true, then Locke was most likely to keep his distance, his trust broken by the allegations against her. Not that it matters, she thought, her long hair swishing about her face as she descended the stairs. She saw him as a nuisance, always getting in her way, always trying to protect her when she was quite capable of looking after herself. And if there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was someone who saw her as a helpless little girl, when in fact she was one of the most powerful knights in all of Vector.

But Terra, that was a different story, and she was unsure as to why her childhood friend had failed to make an appearance. Surely she didn't believe the lies that Kefka told them. And yet Terra always had a way of hanging on his every word, listening to him and defending him, even beyond the point of reason when no one else would have cared enough to spare a passing glance. It was troubling, especially now that she had seen both sides of him, and knowing this did little to ease Celes' mind.

"King Edgar," she said, lifting her chin and focusing her attention on the King of Figaro. She was able to maintain a professional appearance despite being on the verge of collapse. And when she spoke, she addressed him in such a manner that he was able to hear the authority in her voice. "I am grateful that you've decided to meet with us, though it is unfortunate that we should meet under these circumstances." She hesitated briefly, half-glancing in Cyan's direction and noting the impassive expression he wore while listening to her speak. "The Emperor wishes to speak with you," Celes continued. "We have decided to lay down our arms, and would like to begin talks of peace now that the war is over."

Edgar considered her for a moment, his gaze drifting towards the men in their elaborate robes standing on either side of her. "Very well then." He nodded and followed her up the steps, with Sabin and Cyan following close behind.

As they progressed through the ruined hallways, passing crumbling stairs and windows with bits of glass barely clinging to their hollow frames, they saw soldiers saluting the General, and to each she nodded before continuing on her way. Edgar made note of their behavior, his thoughts returning to Cyan's earlier statement, saying that they would see her for what she truly is now that she was back inside the empire. Though he would hardly call this a sign of her loyalty to the empire, he was surprised by the ease with which she returned to her former role.

'Perhaps it is due to her strict military training,' he mused. 'Heaven knows such things do not pass from memory so easily. And if she were the type who could not retain such knowledge, they would not have given her the title in the first place.'

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of angry shouting, and he looked up in time to see a soldier cursing and yelling as he came down the stairs.

The soldier seized his helmet with both hands, yanking it off and throwing it across the hallway where it struck the wall with a loud metallic clang. "No one is going to tell me the war is over!" he cried, furious with the Emperor's decision to make peace with the Returners. "We're the strongest nation on earth. We can't be defeated this way! We can't! I won't have it!" His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the General, and he raised a hand, pointing an accusing finger at Celes. "You!" he spat. "You traitor! You probably brought those Espers here yourself!"

He charged at her, fingers closing around the hilt of his sword as he prepared to attack. Celes responded quickly, pushing herself past the point of exhaustion and driving her fist into the soldier's stomach. The air rushed out of his lungs, a faint groan passing over his lips as his eyes rolled back in his head, his knees buckling, crumbling to the floor.

Celes' face remained impassive, her eyes gleaming in the cold, electric lights. She looked past the fallen soldier, her vision blurring as she staggered sideways and suddenly collapsed against the wall, sliding downwards until she was sitting on the floor.

"Celes?" The voice was distant, concerned. Blackness crept across the edges of her vision, and she leaned forward, barely able to hear what was being said. "Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm fine." The words came easily, automatically, without thought or hesitation. She pressed her palm against the floor, desperately wishing for one of Dr. Cid's elixirs. Even a single drop would do, so she wasn't making a fool of herself in front of her friends. "Where's Terra?" she asked, the suddenness of her question taking them by surprise. "I want to know why she isn't here."

Sabin reached for her, only to feel his brother's hand close around his wrist.

"Leave her," said Edgar, lowering his voice so that only Sabin could hear him. "Celes doesn't take kindly to those who treat her like a damsel in distress. She's liable to castrate you if you lay a hand on her," he added, making sure Celes hadn't heard him before continuing.

The monk recoiled at the thought, his eyes widening to the point where they appeared ready to pop right out of his head. He slid his wrist out of his brother's grasp, then looked back at Celes, who by now had risen to her feet, her hand against the wall in an effort to maintain her balance. "Terra was attacked by Kefka at the sealed gate," he explained. "I tried to heal her, but we're running low on supplies, and I haven't quite mastered the ability to use healing magic."

This news struck her like a blow to the chest, piercing her heart and filling her with a silent rage. What followed was a sudden drop in temperature, her breath steaming, ice crystals forming on the surface of her silvery blond hair. She could feel the cold stinging her veins, and Cyan, upon seeing her muscles tense, gripped the hilt of his katana. His eyes were then drawn towards the ceiling, his mouth opening in silent wonder as snowflakes materialized in the air above her head.

"Um, Celes," said Sabin, watching the snowflakes fall to the floor, covering her shoulders in a layer of white. "You're making it snow."

"That bastard." Celes grit her teeth, her strength waning as the snowstorm began to subside. "I knew that he was abusing her, but I never thought he'd finally get tired of playing with his favorite toy." She stumbled forward, glancing over her shoulder before continuing. "Bring her to the palace. We'll do what we can to treat her injuries."

Relief spread throughout his chest, and when he looked to his older brother, Edgar nodded in approval. Celes had abandoned all formalities when faced with the truth about her friend's condition, and was speaking to them not as a General, but as a friend. They were more important to her than this corrupted kingdom overflowing with hatred, greed and lies. And it was enough to start the wheels in motion, giving them a chance to reconsider having her as a member of the Returners.

\---------------------

Discussions began behind closed doors not long after Terra was brought to the infirmary. Locke, who insisted on staying at Terra's bedside while she slept, listened intently while the pair of brothers discussed the situation with Celes. Setzer decided to accompany them, and had seated himself on one of the spare beds, keeping his head down while listening to their conversation. Cyan, too, had decided to join them, though he mostly kept to himself and had little to say on the matter, while Gau proceeded to ignore the goings on in favor of exploring every inch of the room.

"I think we made a mistake," said Sabin, his frustration growing at the thought of what the empire had put them through. "Unless we're there and we see for ourselves what's going on, we can never know for sure if Celes did what she was accused of. I wasn't even there when Setzer brought the others to the factory," he said, placing a hand against his chest before motioning out the window towards the ruined factory. "The only thing I can say with certainty is that I saw one of the Emperor's men attack her in a fit of rage, and that he had some rather choice words for her."

Edgar sat down beside him, taking a seat in the chair next to the window. He listened carefully to what his brother was saying, nodding when he felt it was appropriate, his hands folded neatly in his lap, one leg crossed over the other. And although it was obvious that his brother was upset, Edgar knew him well enough to tell when something was wrong, something that wasn't entirely due to the empire's trickery.

"Nearly half the men in the palace have gone off the walls since Gesthal decided to end the war," Sabin continued. "Most of them are convinced that Celes had something to do with the fall of Vector, which seems to be the reason behind all these unprovoked attacks."

"Of course," said Locke, blinking and looking up at the others. "They can't get to her so they take it out on us. And I've got the bruises to prove it," he grumbled, rubbing a sore spot on his left shoulder.

"And do you see any reason, aside from the one you just mentioned, that would suggest she has always been loyal to the Returners?" Edgar queried, his tone thoughtful.

Silence followed his brother's question, with Sabin turning his attention towards the sky outside the window, his expression downcast, unable to meet his brother's gaze.

"I don't like to judge people," said Sabin, finally speaking after more than a minute had passed. "It's one of the reasons why I didn't want to inherit our father's kingdom, because I don't want the burden of having to decide someone's fate based on what others have told me. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm not always the best judge of people."

"Well, now I wouldn't say that," said Edgar, speaking gently to his younger brother. "You listen to your heart and you do what you believe is right. The important thing to remember is that we're all human, Sabin. None of us are perfect, and at times we can be mislead."

Sabin took this into consideration and nodded, his heart feeling lighter thanks to his brother's kind words. "And what about this mission they want us to sign up for?" he asked. "Do you think it's a good idea to let Terra go with them to Crescent Island?"

"That is for her to decide once she has recovered from her injuries. Though I am skeptical of this sudden change of heart the Emperor seems to have had, I'm afraid we have no choice. It would be in our best interest to work with them. But, as I said, that will be for Terra to decide. In the mean time, let's see if the Emperor will make good on his word regarding the capture and imprisonment of Kefka Palazzo."

Setzer sighed heavily, leaning back with both hands on the mattress. "This conversation has been enlightening," he drawled, gazing at the ceiling while he spoke. "Now if you don't mind, I need to be on my way."

"Wait, what?" Locke turned to Setzer, his mouth agape as the gambler swept past. "You're leaving now? Right in the middle of everything?"

"I'm afraid so," Setzer replied, his hand already on the doorknob. "Being grounded for so long has left me in need of some fresh air. And I'm not going to get any sitting around in this oversized soup can."

The door closed behind him with a snap, the soles of his shoes gliding past the threshold and whisking him away down the hall. If the others wanted to sit around discussing matters like a bunch of old ladies at tea time, fine. So be it. But Setzer preferred a more direct approach, and had decided to confront Celes on his own, hoping that he might speak with her in private while the others continued their conversation.

He found her in a meeting with Emperor Gesthal, a pair of formidable guards standing on either side of the door, leering at him from beneath the visor on their helmets. When asked how long she was going to be at the meeting, the guard on the right seized him by the collar of his shirt, gripping the material and practically lifting him off his feet as he spoke.

"You best move along unless you're looking for trouble. The Emperor will decide when the meeting is over. Until then you're not to set foot in this area of the palace. Understood?"

Setzer quickly realized that this was one of the hostile soldiers Celes had warned them about. Fortunately for him, this soldier wasn't looking to start a fight, or else Setzer would've been forced to use his face as a dart board.

The gambler scurried off down the hall, his robes swishing about his ankles as he rounded the corner then came to a stop in the adjacent hallway. Having nothing better to do, he pulled out a deck of cards, sat down on the floor, and began a game of solitaire.

During this time his mind began to wander over the various encounters he'd had with Celes since their meeting at the opera house. Like everyone else, he had his thoughts concerning her loyalties to the empire. And in the true spirit of a gambler, he decided it was worth taking a chance to see what she had to say on the matter, though his reasons might not be what anyone had expected of him.

An hour passed before he looked up from his game, the sound of footsteps drawing his attention as the door closed and Celes made her way towards the staircase at the far end of the hallway. She stopped when she saw him sitting on the floor, cards in hand with long strands of silvery hair flowing past his shoulders. A smile formed on his lips, and he motioned with his free hand for her to come over.

Celes rolled her eyes, looking both weary and irritated. "What do you want, Setzer?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and fixing him with an icy stare. She'd had very little sleep since the Espers attacked the city, and her patience was wearing thin.

"Oh, nothing much," he answered casually. "Just thought I'd offer up a bit of my time for conversational purposes." Setzer went back to studying his cards, then placed a three of spades on the pile to his left. "The others haven't mentioned it yet, but they're grateful that you offered to provide Terra with medical care while she recovers."

His use of the word "they're" caught her attention, and she relaxed a little, watching as he placed another card on the pile.

"I must admit I had my doubts," Setzer continued, still focused on his cards. "But, as they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I probably wouldn't have come on this quest if you hadn't tricked me with your impersonation of Maria, then again with that two-headed coin. And believe me, Miss Chere, it's not every day that someone manages to pull the wool over my eyes." He chuckled, shaking his head at the thought.

Celes considered him for a moment, still frowning and looking very much like she'd rather be somewhere else. "You act as though you're not part of their group," she said, and Setzer raised his eyebrows, glancing sideways at her from beneath trailing strands of hair. "Is that what you're trying to say? That you assume I'm not with them either, so you figured it was alright to speak with me because neither one of us are fully committed to this quest, as you call it?"

"My dear, I said nothing of the sort!" he exclaimed, eyes widening at how quickly she'd jumped to conclusions. "I thought it would be obvious. I'm here because of you, because you captivated me with your perilous nature. A nature which, given the current circumstances, has driven me to investigate on my own terms." His tone became more serious, his eyes illuminated with a spark of curiosity. "You see, Miss Chere, I prefer to play by my own rules, if you will. Their decision has no impact on my own, as I would still have taken an interest in you regardless of the choice they make."

"In other words, you're still interested in having a relationship with me even though I serve the empire."

Her look was positively murderous. It was a look that would have made a lesser man wither beneath her gaze. But Setzer either didn't notice or didn't care, his cheerful smile returning as he looked at her and said, "Well, you certainly aren't going to harm anyone now that the empire has been destroyed."

Cards scattered across the floor as he was once again yanked off his feet. Only this time he felt the steel edge of her sword against his throat, her fingers grasping the front of his shirt as she slammed him against the wall.

He felt his pulse throbbing against cold steel, her eyes, as frigid as the darkest night in winter, gazing deep into his own. She said nothing during that moment when she held his life in the palm of her hand, but her actions were enough, and slowly she released him, allowing him to breathe once more.

"You aren't the only one who sets their own rules," she said slowly, sheathing her blade. "I can decide for myself whether or not to take a person's life. I don't need the empire, or anyone else, telling me what to do. And that includes you, Setzer."

She spat his name with contempt, turning on heel and leaving him to watch her retreating form, his heart beating just as quickly as when she'd held her sword against his throat.

\----------------

Night had fallen over Vector, the stars blossoming as deepening shades of midnight blue mingled with the silvery light of the moon. The city lights, once bright and gleaming, now dimmed as floodlights took the place of the warm, inviting glow. What began as a rescue mission earlier in the day had now become a recovery mission, with military personnel working late into the night, shifting and moving several hundred pounds of debris. And all the while Locke remained oblivious to the noise outside his window, his attention focused on the young woman beside him.

His fingers found hers, intertwined beneath the electric lights that lit the cold, sterile room. He gently shushed her when she whimpered and moaned, brushing the hair out of her face and telling her once more that she was going to be okay.

"Terra," he said softly, his head bowed, eyes closing as he squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry about what happened back there. If I'd have been better... If I reached you in time, this never would have happened."

"Why?" The question formed in her mind long before it found its way to her lips. Her strength waning, Terra found it difficult to speak more than a few words at a time.

Locke opened his eyes, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Why do you say that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She inhaled slowly, gathering her strength before making an effort to speak. "You aren't to blame for what happened. It was... an accident... Didn't mean to... make you worry..." Her voice trailed off into silence, her eyes closing as she lingered on the edge of sleep.

"No," he breathed, shaking his head in dismay. They told him she'd suffered a concussion, and that she might be confused or have difficulty remembering what happened shortly before she was attacked. But seeing her like this, insisting that she'd had an accident when he'd seen Kefka standing over her, made him wonder if she would suffer the same fate as his former lover.

"Listen to me, Terra. It wasn't an accident. You were attacked by Kefka at the sealed gate. You remember, right? Please tell me you remember." His tone was pleading, begging her to remember. But she had fallen asleep, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He began to think about the nights he spent with Rachel, the way the flickering candles shone brightly in the darkness of the basement, bathing her pale features in a soft, amber glow. One night he fell asleep beside her bed, his mind conjuring the image of her awakening. He looked on in wonder, mouth slightly open, unable to take his eyes off the majestic, flaming wings that sprouted from her back. 'Those are the wings of the phoenix', he thought, watching as shadows moved and danced across the contours of her face. He slowly got to his feet, reaching to take her hand when suddenly the flames leapt up, rising to consume him while he stood paralyzed by her haunting gaze.

When Locke looked at Terra, he couldn't help feeling as though he were being drawn into a world of dreams and sorrow, forcing him to relive his past mistakes time and time again.

"It's the same thing," he said softly, gripping her hand as though he were afraid to let her go. Terra was his lifeline, tethering him to the possibility of a brighter future where he might one day release the troubles of his past. But only if he could hold on and prevent her from slipping farther away than she already was.

A moment passed before he lifted his head and looked out the window. The sights and sounds of the world around him slowly filtered through the haze that settled over his mind, bringing into focus a grim reality, one where the people had suffered a loss greater than his own. His pain felt small, distant in comparison to theirs, but still present, still gnawing at his insides whenever he looked at her and saw Rachel sleeping beside him.

And then he saw it, the image of his beloved Rachel, wreathed in shining mist that clung to the tips of Kefka's fingers. He remembered the way lightning stretched across the skies, unable to penetrate the veil that cloaked his painted face. The darkness was such that none could reach him, his aura pulsing with such intense hatred that it completely overwhelmed his victim. Even now, though he was miles away from the horror he had witnessed, Locke felt a chill pass over him, and he shuddered at the memory of what he'd seen.

Something had changed since their battle atop the frozen hills of Narshe. Back then Kefka had been more vulnerable, more human despite his garish makeup and bizarre clothing. But that was before the discovery of magicite, before Kefka started moving towards a state of omnipresence, his actions defying those of logic and reason. It was enough to make Locke question what he'd seen, thinking that maybe it was an illusion, or his imagination playing tricks on him. At the same time Leo was sitting at his desk, his head bowed, a bottle of brandy to his left and a photo album sitting open on the desk in front of him.

His trembling hand reached for the bottle of brandy, bringing it to his lips and drinking deeply, hoping that it might calm his nerves. But try as he might, the alcohol did nothing to lessen the growing sense of unease that settled in his chest.

He sighed heavily, the chair creaking as he sat up straight. "I don't know what to do anymore," said Leo, speaking softly to a photograph of his father. "I'd like to think I did what's best for him. I convinced the Emperor to reduce his sentence, placing him under house arrest rather than keeping him in a mental hospital. People have had to monitor him night and day in order to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone. And yet it continues." He paused, inhaling a deep, shuddering breath, and for a minute he found himself unable to continue.

"No," he muttered, shaking his head and setting the bottle aside. "This isn't the way to solve anything. You're not helping yourself or anyone else. Get a grip, Leo. These people need you to be strong."

He wanted to be strong for them. For the people who lost loved ones during the attack on Vector, for his father who raised him to be a good, honest person. But he was just one man, an average human being in a city where magic was as commonplace as seeing a chocobo foraging for insects in the grass. And there was only so much he could do when both he and his men had suffered such a tremendous loss.

\---------------------

The sun had risen well above the mountains when the soldiers set out on a journey to the Imperial observation post. From there they entered the cave to the sealed gate, moving deeper into the burning chasm below. A few of the men collapsed from heat exhaustion, while others began to hallucinate due to the intensity of the heat that filled the tunnels. It wasn't until they exited the cave that they discovered the mage lying in a field not far from where he fought with Locke.

The area around him had been scorched, with tendrils of smoke rising from the blackened earth. It appeared as though he'd clawed his way across the ground, twisting and writhing like some mad beast caught in a snare, until finally he collapsed on the edge of the grove.

One by one the hours slowly passed, the skies awash in never ending darkness. Beyond the clouds the skies were burning, alight with shades of gold and crimson, deepening into rich browns which gave way to bruised and blackened hues that stretched across the horizon. At night the stars were dark, the moon resembled a piece of burned paper, and all within a five hundred mile radius surrounding the area where Kefka had fallen.

His thoughts slowly began to stagnate, forming a thick sludge that festered in the cold recesses of his mind. His fingers twitched, a warm trickle of saliva slithered past his lips. So close, his mind told him. Closer now with every breath, with each and every heartbeat.

The darkness started closing in, with shadows pooling in the small of Kefka's back, shifting and pulsing as they formed what would later become his third and final set of wings. They moved with him, shrinking and expanding with each inhalation of breath.

He was vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps, of heavy boots moving over rocks and dry patches of grass. His eyes rolled towards them, these intruders who happened upon his semiconscious form, lying in the dust as the winds tugged on the hem of his cloak. He feared what would happen if they tried to move him. And if he were able to voice his concerns, he would have screamed at them, unleashing his hatred and fury so that none who entered this sacred space would linger in the vicinity of his greatness.

'Greatness,' a voice whispered, its tone mocking, so sure that he would crumble the moment they touched him. 'What do you know about greatness? You're still a servant to that dottering old fool. You'll have to kill him first if you wish to behold a world in which your superiority is not ignored.'

A pause, the length of a single heartbeat, his pain intensifying as he was swept up in multitude of grasping, reaching hands. The shadows fled their touch, his agonized cries helping to drive them away, until all that remained was torment so complete that it eclipsed any shred of consciousness he once had.

The first thing he became aware of when his consciousness returned was a burning sensation that spread throughout the left side of his body. Pain flared in his hip, radiating outwards from the area where he'd kept the magicite in his pocket. But strangest of all were the veins of indigo blossoming along his neck and shoulder, creeping towards his face where they formed a network of interconnecting lines not unlike that of a spiderweb.

His temperature had risen drastically, forcing them to remove the layers of clothing and scarves he wore. It wasn't until they had him naked from the waist up that they noticed the imperfections of his flesh; his wings spread beneath him, his hands held against his chest, fingers curling, stiffening into claws, while those ghastly blemishes spread to consume the left side of his body.

Froth ran from the corner of his mouth, his wings beating, flapping uselessly against the length of canvas he was laying on. This world meant nothing to him. They were all going to die. They were all going to burn and then the earth would be clean.

"This is it," a trembling voice whispered. "He must be having some sort of reaction to the magicite."

Kefka's eyes opened, the whites showing bloodshot as they rolled this way and that. The muscles in his face and neck spasmed, causing him to grimace and jerk his head sideways. A slew of incomprehensible nonsense dribbled past his lips, broken only by odd fits of laughter.

Yes yes, burn them all. Burn every last one of them. Burn the fools who would dare to look upon their ageless god and question the voice of destruction.

A familiar face looked at him in wonder, both terrified and in awe of the twitching, babbling figure they'd brought before him. Kefka recognized this individual as Dr. Cid, his aging features bathed in a greenish glow emanating from the magicite in his hands.

The doctor turned, looking over his shoulder through the bars on the cell door. "Send for a nurse," he said, speaking directly to the guard outside the door. "I don't know why this is happening or if there's any way to stop it, but this man needs medical attention immediately."


	56. Roses In Autumn

Footsteps moved across the deck, drumming out a rhythm on the oaken boards. The noise mingled with the sound of the ocean, waves gently lapping against the hull while the skies grew dark and the mountains turned black against a sky of crimson.

A lone figure stood watching over the soldiers, his hands behind his back, mouth set in a straight line across his face. To him the sounds were distant, a faraway noise on the horizon. He shifted slightly, turning and motioning towards an empty space where the soldiers were to place the supplies. His eyes, suddenly the eyes of a man who felt much older than thirty, closed momentarily, and he took a deep breath.

These last few days had been some of the most difficult he'd ever faced. He felt older, exhausted, ready to lie down and sleep through the remainder of autumn, then on into winter until the year was new again. But it was his father's strength that kept him going, that indomitable spirit that enabled him to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

"Leo." Celes approached him, the wind whipping strands of hair across her face. "Are you sure you're going to be alright? You know, I'm quite capable of doing this myself if you feel you're not up to it."

Leo raised his hand, massaging his temples in an effort to relieve the nagging pain that blossomed over his left eye. "I'm fine," he said, turning to her and nodding. "I'm just tired... Tired of all this war, bloodshed and death." A weary sigh slid past his lips, and he looked towards the sky, watching the clouds pass overhead. "The night we were attacked, I realized how small we are in the grand scheme of things. How insignificant we must seem in comparison to them. I'm not about to abandon my duties as General, but I feel this proves that I was right, and that magic is an unnatural force we weren't meant to control."

Silence passed between them, with Celes' gaze slowly drifting towards the horizon. Her thoughts wandered over the horrific scenes she'd witnessed, past howling creatures whose rage engulfed the city, to the sight of burning buildings illuminating the night sky. She began to wonder what would happen if they couldn't make peace with the Espers. And even if they did, what would she do with herself after the war had ended?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice, and she turned to see Locke standing beside Terra, his arm around her as they boarded the ship.

Their eyes met in passing, with Locke glancing at Celes before turning his attention to Terra. In the past he would have gone to her, eager to speak with the blond knight and make sure she was ready for the next leg of their journey. None of which was necessary, as he soon learned after several failed attempts to protect her. And although she should have felt relieved at seeing him pass without so much as a nod in her direction, instead she felt confused, a dull ache settling in her chest as he walked by and continued down the stairs.

Celes stared at the empty space between them, trying to come to terms with the emotions she was feeling. "Ridiculous," she muttered, shaking her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. He was nothing but a low life thief, and an annoying one at that, always following her around like a love sick puppy. So why did it hurt so much to see him with someone else?

\-----------------

That night, as the moon sailed free of the clouds and began its journey across the eastern skies, Terra made her way out onto the deck, seeking comfort in the stillness of the evening. She wanted to forget about the feelings of confusion and uncertainty that plagued her since awakening in the infirmary, her frustration growing when she questioned her feelings for those around her. She wondered whether or not it was possible for her to love someone. And if she was capable of having feelings for someone, was it possible that Kefka's actions could have been motivated by residual memories of their past?

"Sure," she said softly, leaning against the railing and gazing out across the moonlit sea. "Or maybe I'm just being stupid. Maybe it's impossible for us to feel such things." She sniffed, feeling moisture pool in the corners of her eyes. "But I know you used to feel something. You did... I'm sure of it..."

Her voice trailed off into silence, her arms around her chest, shivering as a cold gust of wind blew across the deck. There was no denying that Kefka had changed, the curtain closing on all that was as they ventured on alone, so very far from where they began.

Alone, she wept for him, for all they were and everything they'd lost, finally letting sorrow consume her. It was something she'd never properly acknowledged, not wanting to accept that she had lost him long ago. But life goes on, even when the story has ended. She would continue without him, taking strength from the man he was and the memories they'd made together, for that is what he would've wanted. That is why he wrote to her, in hopes she would remember his love for her and use it to stay strong.

She remained on the deck long after midnight, until the sound of footsteps drew her attention towards the staircase. Terra turned around, hair blowing in the wind with one hand on the metal railing, and watched as a figure emerged from the shadows.

It was Locke, his lean form bent over double with one arm around his waist. He slumped against the railing, feeling as though everything he'd eaten in the last twenty-four hours was about to make its grand reentrance.

Terra considered him for a moment before crossing the deck and standing behind him. "Are you alright?" she asked, hesitating slightly before placing a hand on his shoulder. "You look really pale."

His answer came in the form of a groan. "Seasick," he muttered thickly, still holding his stomach as the waves lapped against the hull. The rest of his sentence was lost amid the clam chowder and salad he'd had for dinner, which had decided to make a second appearance and offer itself up as fish food.

"I knew I shouldn't have had the clams," said Locke, pausing to wipe the perspiration that was streaming down the side of his face. "Damn things want to go back to the ocean."

She put her arm around him, helping him over to a row of crates that had been stacked against the ship's cabin and held in place with chains. "Come on then," she said gently. "Maybe if you take a minute to rest you'll start feeling better."

"I doubt it." The crate creaked as he sat down, his fingers finding the chains and holding on tight as the ship lurched forward. "I've always been this way, even when I was traveling with Rachel. Which is why we never strayed far from land. It wasn't until she passed away that I started braving deeper waters in search of the Phoenix Stone."

'Rachel,' thought Terra, her eyebrows lifting towards her mint green curls. 'That must be her, the girl he was in love with.'

She had never heard him speak her name, not even during the many conversations they'd had in Vector. He would often hesitate, his voice faltering when their conversation turned towards the events of his past. He would then reach for his bandana, twisting and pulling on the ragged strip of fabric while nervously glancing out the window. It was enough to make her realize that this was a difficult subject for him, and out of respect for his feelings, Terra decided not to question him on the matter.

A low groan distracted her from her thoughts, followed by a dull pressure on her right shoulder. Terra blinked and tilted her head to the side, looking down at the young man beside her.

Locke's eyes were tightly closed, his mouth opening in wordless torment. "World's greatest treasure hunter," he murmured, pausing to swallow the bile that had risen in his throat. "Reduced to this..."

Terra lifted her arm and draped it across his shoulders, her fingers brushing against his side as she allowed him to lean on her. She knew the poor man was miserable, not just from sea sickness but from loneliness as well. And while she couldn't do much for his illness, she could at least keep him company so he wouldn't feel so alone.

\-------------------

The sun was shining brightly overhead when the ship made landfall on Crescent Island. It was surprisingly warm, despite the crisp winds that carried a flurry of leaves across the shore and into the cerulean waves. And although the western hemisphere had yet to experience the beginnings of fall, the island on which they'd landed was bathed in a multitude of colors, ranging from shades of amber and gold to rich browns and pale yellow.

Celes was first to notice how their colors appeared more vibrant than the foliage on the neighboring island. To anyone else, it meant nothing more than a change of seasons. But beneath the hanging branches that grew long and wide under the circle of the sun was the voice of a forgotten era. It spoke in whispers, each word forming a flicker of light that pulsed within the veins on the leaves.

Terra noticed it as well, her eyes wide like that of a curious fawn as she stepped onto the island. She looked up at the magnificent halo of light surrounding the trees, each one connected by strands of shining mist that rose towards the skies, leaving her standing there with her mouth agape, marveling at the wonder before her.

Celes looked up from the cluster of flowers she was examining. "Isn't there a rumor that magic still exists on this island?" she queried, her attention focused on the dark skinned man who had yet to approach the treeline.

General Leo stood off to the side, eyeing the trees as though he expected a herd of behemoths to come crashing through the woods. He couldn't see the narrow bands of light left behind when the wind caressed the treetops, nor could he explain the nervous tension that blossomed beneath his ribs. The surrounding area was unnaturally quiet, the only sound came as a gust of wind sent the leaves aquiver, their brittle bodies rattling ominously in the pale light of dawn.

"That's what they told me, Celes." Leo shivered as a sudden chill sent goosebumps racing along his arms, and he grasped the hem of his jacket, pulling it tight around his chest in an effort to shut out the cold. "This place reeks of magic," he muttered, taking one last look at the swaying branches before heading down the path.

"Magic," Terra echoed, her voice brimming with child-like wonder. She placed her palm against the trunk of a nearby tree, her fingers splayed with points of light forming beneath her fingertips. The light pulsed, flashing once before breaking apart and traveling upwards where it was absorbed into the tree.

She inhaled sharply, watching as her magic reacted with that of the forest, causing ripples of energy to spread throughout the tree. These ripples condensed to form bands of bluish light, moving in waves until they reached the canopy, the leaves shining like incandescent pearls as Terra's magic passed through them.

"The forest," she breathed, one hand held against her chest as her friends looked towards the treetops. "The forest is alive with magic. Everything is. The trees, the air, the ground beneath our feet - " Terra broke off in midsentence, a shuddering gasp snaking past her lips as a sudden pulse of energy flowed upwards and entered her body through the soles of her shoes.

Locke furrowed his brow in confusion. He turned his head this way and that, looking at the tree from many different angles. "Um, what are we looking at, guys?" he asked, glancing from Leo to Celes then back again. "Is there supposed to be something in the tree or what? Because all I'm seeing is a tree."

Celes huffed out an irritated sigh, her hands on her hips, shaking her head at Locke's dimwitted questions. "Idiot," she muttered under her breath before turning to Leo. "Come on." She motioned with a wave of her hand towards the forest. "We have our orders. Let's get going before the Espers regroup and destroy what's left of the city."

It was here that the group parted ways, with Leo and Celes entering the forest while Shadow, Locke and Terra took the path heading north along the coast. For them the journey was easy, moving along an old dirt road until they reached the village of Thamasa. However Leo and Celes were not so fortunate, their path forcing them to wade through waters that ran through the heart of the forest. The woodlands were also teaming with monsters, most ranging in size from a large dog to half the size of an Imperial tank. Once, Leo swore he saw a pair of reddish eyes gazing down at him from the branches of a tree. Other times the eyes were green or yellow, their bulbous forms gathering in the night like a swarm of flies, only to fade into the darkness and reappear at some other location.

It didn't take long for Celes to tire of those gleaming orbs staring at her night after night. There was no privacy in these accursed woods, and so she decided to remedy the situation by conjuring a barrage of icicles and sending them hurtling through the bushes. Ten seconds later Leo was awoken by the sound of her voice, her frantic cries rousing him from his slumber and sending him scurrying across the floor of his tent. He crawled towards the entrance on his hands and knees, thrusting the flap aside and gasping at the sight before him.

A swarm of bats had surrounded the General, their wings and claws tangling in her hair as they repeatedly rammed her with their bodies. These creatures were joined by nearly a dozen moths, some of them almost a foot in length, their bodies dark as pitch with a series of purple blotches running along the edges of their wings.

Celes all but vanished beneath the cloud of bats and insects, her arms flailing as she screamed and tried swatting at them. Leo was about to intervene when a blinding flash cut through the darkness, followed by a sudden rush of freezing air that exploded outwards in all directions. Her assailants were flash frozen in the subzero winds, their bodies stiff and covered with a layer of ice as they struck the ground with a dull thump. She then looked up at Leo, her eyes narrow, glaring and breathless from the outpouring of magical energy.

"Takes care of them," she said simply.

"Yes," he said at length, his eyes traveling over the frozen corpses that littered the ground. "I'd say you handled that rather well." Leo then slowly backed into the tent, his gaze never leaving her face as he lowered the thick sheet of canvas that covered the entrance.

They continued their journey in the morning, traveling through the woods until they reached the foothills of the northern mountains. It was here they came upon a most peculiar sight, finding clusters of wild roses growing amongst the rocky crevices and narrow passageways.

Celes ran ahead of her companion, stopping when she'd reached the floral canvas that grew along the dusty hillside. "These roses," she whispered, carefully placing her fingers on either side of the stem so that she was cupping the delicate blossom. "These are the same kind of roses that grandpa has in his greenhouse. And there are so many of them."

She lifted her head, a rare smile gracing the features of her face as she gazed upon the multitude of roses growing along the cliffs. The flowers carpeted the hillside, creating dazzling fields of crimson and gold, their thick stems and dense foliage cascading over rocks and boulders, with branches intertwined and blossoms so large they drooped towards the ground.

General Leo stood beside her, his head tilted back, observing the dangling stems that swayed casually in the wind. He remembered what Celes told him about the roses being magical, and how magic could be used to create things of beauty. And yet seeing them now, in their natural environment, did nothing to change his opinion of magic.

"Wait a minute," said Celes, her voice drawing him out of his thoughts. "Look at these bushes. It looks like they've been flattened by something."

Leo turned to look at her, and saw the young General kneeling beside a cluster of damaged bushes. Leaves and flowers had been crushed beneath the weight of something large and heavy, with broken branches lying on the ground, their mangled limbs covered in a generous portion of blood. His curiosity peaked, Leo moved closer to examine the torn foliage, and discovered a trail of blood leading away from the bushes.

"What do you suppose happened?" he asked, thinking that perhaps some monster had tried climbing the jagged rocks and landed badly on the shimmering plants below. But Celes was already up and moving, her pale hands carefully parting the sea of roses as she leaned forward and started crawling through the thorny bushes.

She ventured forward as far as she could, her arms and hands crisscrossed with a number raw, bleeding cuts. There was a stony look of determination in her eyes, cold and hard, like shards of ice glinting in the moonlight. She knew that she had heard something up ahead, something more than the steady drops of water falling from the ceiling. That, combined with the odd assortment of shadows creeping across the wall, motivated her to explore the area, regardless of the many thorns pricking her skin as she crawled across the ground.

"It looks like there's a cave in here." The words had barely left her mouth when something darted past, appearing on her left before retreating into the shadows. This sudden movement took her by surprise, and she whipped her head around, straining her eyes to see what had crossed her path before fleeing into the shadows.

Loose pieces of soil and rock cascaded down the side of the embankment, disturbed by her movements as she continued through the bed of roses. A moment passed before the earth gave way beneath her, collapsing as she screamed and tumbled downwards into the cave below.

Leo, startled by her sudden disappearance, leapt back as the bushes bent beneath her weight then snapped backwards, the leaves rattling ominously inches from his face. He tried calling her name, moving forward while at the same time trying not to get too close to the prickly plants. When he heard nothing he tried again, his heart pounding against his ribs, and was rewarded with a series of muttered expletives.

Rather than wait around to see what happened next, Leo drew his sword and began hacking at the bushes, clearing a path so that he could follow Celes into the cave.

"Celes?" he called out once more, glancing down and carefully taking a step forward. There was just enough light for him to see that the ground tapered off into a narrow slope, with clusters of mushrooms growing in the darker corners of the cave. "Where are you?" A pause, followed by the sound of wind whistling through the crevices in the rocks. "There's something in here," he murmured, searching the cave for any sign of movement.

Though he was unable to perceive magical auras, Leo could sense the change in atmosphere as he descended into the cave. The air was heavy, bristling with electricity that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Whatever existed in the depths of these unforgiving caverns was something far more ancient and powerful than what they'd brought back to the empire. That energy was fresh, it was inexperienced and new, unaccustomed to life outside their realm. But there was something more, something primal that had taken shape in the days when Espers still lived alongside humans.

"I wish you'd say something, Celes," said Leo, his tone urgent as he had not heard from his companion for several minutes. Air rushed into his lungs as the Rune knight suddenly appeared beside him, tendrils of mist clinging to her hair and skin like frozen whispers on the water. "There you are!" he exclaimed, relief flooding his senses at the sight of the young General. "Good heavens, you scared me half to death, young lady."

"Leo, hush," she whispered harshly, holding a finger to her lips. Celes turned quickly, her hair swinging, looking back the way she'd come as though she feared someone might be listening in on their conversation. "I found something up ahead," she said, slightly breathless, her heart fluttering rapidly in her chest. "I don't know what they are, or who put them there, but you need to come see this. Now," she added, taking him by the wrist and guiding him through the network of tunnels.

She practically ran with him the rest of the way, letting her senses guide her to where she had found the statues perched upon an earthen mound. To her the cave was filled with light, each step sending up a flurry of greenish-blue particles that resembled flecks of glitter. These particles flashed before growing dim, drifting and then shining once more.

They continued moving downhill, the lower levels on fire with pits of blazing light. The caverns were further lit by columns of sunlight, piercing the shadows through openings in the ceiling. It was here they discovered three statues surrounded by a chasm of light. Cerulean flames rose from the crevice behind the feminine statue, its wings engulfed in shades of sapphire and midnight blue. Emerald flames licked at the feet of the demonic figure on their left, its great claws bathed in an eerie glow, while crimson tongues flickered and danced on either side of the ax wielding figure on their right. None of which was visible to Leo, who saw only three miniature statues, their faces hidden in shadow while a single pillar of sunlight shone in the center of the trio.

Leo approached them slowly, his mouth agape, staring in wonder at their magnificent, life-like qualities. Part of him wondered if they could possibly spring to life, the one on the right roaring and brandishing his ax as he charged at them with the speed of a lightning bolt.

"Demon, Goddess and Fiend," he said at length, looking at each one in turn as he spoke their names. "These are replicas of the Warring Triad."

"This place is brimming with magic," said Celes, watching as the bluish flames leapt and spiraled around the base of the central statue. "It's said that the Espers created images of the gods and enshrined them in a sacred place. This must be it." A grin tugged on the corners of her lips, and she added, "I wish you could see what I'm seeing, Leo. Maybe then you'd realize just how beautiful magic really is."

"Beautiful or not, this place is the perfect sanctuary for an exhausted group of Espers. And if the statues are here, then there's a good chance the Espers are up ahead." He looked up from the gleaming statue, then turned towards the tunnel at the far end of the cave. "What happens when we find them?" asked Leo, his voice reduced to no more than a breathy whisper. He realized that they were entering dangerous territory, and that the Espers wouldn't take kindly to them trespassing on sacred ground. "They won't listen to us without Terra. Though I can't say that I blame them. After how the empire treated them, imprisoning their friends and family, it stands to reason that they'd be upset with us."

He began to feel as though something were terribly wrong, a sudden tightness closing around his chest, making it difficult to breathe. Surely it hadn't started because he came to Crescent Island. He lived and worked around artificially enhanced men and women every day in Vector. So why here? Why now, and if that was the case, why would it effect him on the island? Celes was nearing the tunnel on far side of the cave when it came to him, striking with a suddenness that froze the breath in his lungs, his heart fluttering like the wings of an injured hummingbird.

_"I am closer to where I'm supposed to be. Closer to the edge of eternity."_

"Kefka," he whispered, his thoughts returning to the night he'd seen the spectral figure perched atop his father's armor.

Of course it was Kefka. It had always been Kefka, gaining in strength and reaching for his place amongst the heavens as a god. Though he wasn't sure if such a thing was really possible, one thing he knew for certain was that he had to tell someone, anyone, about what he'd seen the night his father passed away. They might think he was crazy, and after more than a decade of tolerating Kefka's unique brand of insanity, maybe he was. Maybe he'd finally reached the point where swallowing this lunacy and making it a part of himself was not only possible but an inescapable part of being in Kefka's presence.

"Do you know what I think, Leo?" a voice crooned beside him, its lilting, almost melodic quality carrying throughout the cave. "I think you would be better off dead. Don't you agree?"

Leo started, stumbling backwards as the image of Kefka Palazzo materialized on top of a boulder. The jester was grinning, one leg crossed over the other, sitting casually and swinging his foot while looking over his shoulder at the dark skinned man.

"Although let's be realistic now, Leo. Death would be all too merciful at this point in time. I know because I can see into your heart. I see the pain you've felt since daddy dearest kicked the bucket." Kefka uncrossed his legs, his clownish figure surrounded by a rising wind that sent his cloak and feathers rippling out behind him. "I can do it, Leo," he hissed, offering him his hand. "Let go of the tangible mass of your mind, close your eyes, and escape the bonds of grief through death."

And in that moment Leo saw not the enchanted flames that surrounded the statues, but the fires spawned by absolute hatred and corruption. These images presented themselves with startling clarity, forcing him to confront the tremendous power that Kefka now possessed.

"But how?" His fingers found the boulders behind him, palms pressed against their smooth, cold surface as he backed against the wall. His mind inside was screaming, warring with itself as the rational part of his consciousness told him this couldn't be real, while another part was desperately urging him to run. "How did it come to this? What did you do, Kefka? Tell me what you've done!"

His sentence ended in a scream as the flames surged forward, threatening to engulf the General. Leo heard the sound of wings, of wild, uncontrollable laughter echoing off the walls, and looking up with a kind of terrible fascination akin to hypnosis, he saw a clawed hand reaching for him from out of the darkness.

Leo bolted down the hill, hot breath leaping and plunging in his throat. He felt Kefka's fingernails catch on the back of his jacket, the fabric stretching, pulling away from his skin before ripping down the middle of his back. For one brief moment he felt the soles of his boots leave the ground, blood rushing in his ears as he was jerked backwards, screaming. The next thing he knew he was sprawling on the ground at Celes' feet, the young General glaring daggers at him from over her shoulder.

"Leo!" she hissed, suddenly furious with her companion. "Will you be quiet? They'll hear us!"

"They?" His voice sounded tiny, no more than a confused peep in the vast darkness that surrounded them. He was still trying to make sense of what happened when Celes seized him by the wrist, gritting her teeth as she hauled him up onto his feet.

"There," she said, motioning towards the adjacent tunnel that opened into a room at the back of the cave. "But be careful. I don't want any of them to see us just yet."

Leo turned slowly, his breath still coming in shallow, ragged gasps. It was nearly impossible for him to focus on whatever it was that Celes was trying to show him, his thoughts centering on the rip in his clothes that should have been there, had to be there, but had inexplicably faded the instant he struck the ground.

In time he became aware of sounds, of movement in the dark, slow and dreamlike, and of bodies that shouldn't exist outside a world of fantasy. One of them shifted, spilling gravel down an embankment where it rolled into a shallow pool on the eastern side of the cave.

"Espers," Leo breathed, hardly daring to move, or to raise his voice above a whisper. "Why, there must be a dozen of them." His heart sank when he realized what this meant. Even now, after he'd lost his father to one of these powerful creatures, he couldn't bring himself to hate them. Not after what the empire had done to provoke their wrath.

"Come on," said Celes, turning and heading back the way they came. "We need to get Terra and bring her down here. We can't go any further without her."


	57. Kinship

The physical world began to fall away. Piece by piece, until he could no longer feel the thin sheet draped across his narrow waist. 'Fine then,' thought Kefka, his fingers curling around the rim of the cot. Grasping, letting go, only to fall back into the stars, into the spaces that lie between.

He reached through the swirling clouds of ether, knowing that he could easily manipulate the astral matter so that it bore his likeness. It was practice, of course. This merciless taunting and teasing, threatening General Leo from halfway across the globe as though he were a mere plaything. To those who remained in the physical realm, they saw it as nothing but a dream, watching his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids.

"I wish the Emperor would let us move him," Dr. Cid muttered, his pen scratching against the paper on his clipboard. "Even if it was only for an hour or two, so I could monitor his brainwaves and maybe get a better idea of what's going on in there."

When Kefka heard this he started to laugh, though it was only in his mind where no one else could hear it. This, he thought, was also fine. Fine fine fine fine fine. Well, go on then! Wheel out the equipment and let's get this show on the road. It's not as if it would help them understand what he was becoming. The entire process was beyond their ability to comprehend, a process as old as the Warring Triad who created warriors to battle on their behalf. But he would not become the latest addition to their collection. Nor would he become the fourth, disrupting the sacred triune and taking his place amongst the gods and goddess of magic. This was something different. For the first time in a millennia something new was on the horizon, waiting patiently for the moment it came into being.

Kefka's musings were interrupted when a sliver of light fell across the floor, causing the mage to stir. He winced as sunlight from the open door spilled across his face, with something halfway between a groan and a sigh falling from his lips.

Emperor Gesthal came forward, with Dr. Cid slowly rising from his chair as the Emperor approached the cot. "Your Majesty - " Cid began, but was cut off when Gesthal placed a hand on his chest and shoved him into his chair.

Gesthal observed him for a moment, watching the magician's chest rise and fall with shallow, uneven breathing. Bulging veins stood out along the sides of Kefka's neck, pulsing in time with his heart. His pallid flesh, now burning hot and dripping with perspiration, was mottled on the left side of his body with bluish-purple blemishes that resembled heavy bruising.

"This is good," said Gesthal, nodding in approval. He turned to Cid. "I want him shipped out as soon as he wakes up. He is needed on Crescent Island," he added, seeing the look of incredulous horror shining in the doctor's eyes. "Now don't give me that," he said, a heavy note of irritation lacing his tone. "It is clear that he is becoming the type of creature first spawned by the Warring Triad more than a thousand years ago. Which makes him the perfect candidate for the eradication of their species."

Dr. Cid swallowed hard, struggling to find his voice. "You think he's becoming an Esper?" He glanced at Kefka, noting the way he curled in on himself, his wings folded against his back. "And if he does... If he transforms into one of those creatures, what will become of him once you're finished with him? Will you kill him and use his magicite as fuel like all the rest?"

The Emperor gave him a knowing smile, one that made his eyes sparkle like flecks of obsidian, then turned and swept past, his trailing robes gliding across the concrete floor as he exited the room.

\----------------------

The Espers had gathered in the lower levels of the cave, nearly half a mile from the shrine they built in honor of the Warring Triad. Most of them had suffered terrible injuries, their broken wings trailing like a banner of defeat, while others limped on three legs, their injured limbs twisted and swollen with bits of shrapnel lodged in their wounds. Therefore it came as no surprise when, after several days of lying in the dirt, unable to move from the area where they'd collapsed, some of the Espers developed severe infections.

Their magic depleted, there was little they could do to help their friends. Most of them fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, never moving or waking for up to twelve hours at a time. Those who were less fortunate died in their sleep, their bodies left to rot in the dark corners of the damp, musty cave. Before long insects started gathering on the carcasses, until their flesh literally crawled with maggots. One Esper was heard sobbing, giving voice to a shrill, wretched cry when she discovered her brother's body among the dead.

"Don't look," said the Esper beside her, his voice gentle as he cradled her body against his own. He held her close, for how long they didn't know, until at last she slept in his arms.

This was the scene as Terra entered the cave, with Celes and Leo leading the way into the cavernous room that held close to a dozen Espers.

Locke gasped, inhaling far too much of the horrific stench that came from the decaying bodies. This resulted in a fit of coughing, his left hand clamped over his mouth to keep from vomiting. Relm stayed close to her grandfather, gripping his cloak and burying her face in the soft velvet as she wept. Celes was trembling with barely suppressed rage, her hatred for the empire growing by the minute, while Leo stood close by, unable to look away from the horrific scene before them.

"Good lord, what has become of these poor creatures?" Leo breathed, inching towards one of the fallen Espers. "I knew that they had been injured during the war, but I never suspected the damage would be so severe."

Celes stopped him by holding her arm out in front of him, shaking her head as he tried to pass. "Let Terra go first," she said, eyeing the creatures that had gathered there. Already she could sense movement along the northern wall, with various shapes rising from the mist, some twisted and hideous, suffering from injuries terrible enough to leave them stooped and hobbling. But there was no denying the strength they possessed, their collective energy coming together to create a haze of amber light that filled the cavern with a dim, pulsating radiance.

It was this familiar light that awoke in Terra her memories of the Esper world. She remembered how the sunlight in her world had been dimmed, shining through a warm, golden mist that muted the colors around her. It was the same type of inner light which shone at the center of her father's magicite, its coloration slightly altered by the emerald walls which contained his spirit.

Terra walked into the shimmering mist, breathing deeply and inhaling the collective energies of fire and ice, earth, water and electricity. They each had their own particular flare, as Terra would later describe it, the bluish particles of light cooling her chest and lungs when she inhaled its magical essence. Another step and she entered a field of electric light, the haze distorted by miniature streaks of lightning, moving and flashing before her eyes.

The Espers came forward, gathering around as her hair lengthened, her eyes shining like shards of amethyst. They watched in silence as the atmosphere shifted, some crouching on all fours, others rising on two legs to get a better look. The shimmering bands of light shuddered, trembling as they felt a change come over her. A sudden rise in temperature sent the glowing particles racing outwards in all directions, fleeing the intense heat that radiated from the surface of her skin. Another moment passed, another step forward, and the spaces in between filled with her own unique magical aura.

Golden flowers blossomed at her feet, their petals burning, with shades of crimson and black filling their center. These delicate creations swayed gently on the warm air currents that surrounded her, taking strands of Terra's hair and whisking them away on the wind.

"What is this?" a voice whispered. "Is she...?"

A series of hushed murmurs could be heard near the northern wall of the cave, along with much scurrying of feet and shifting of paws. A young male by the name of Yura emerged from the group, his matted, bluish-green hair spilling past his shoulders. A bruise was purpling the skin over his left eye, and as he gripped the nearest boulder to steady his staggering movements, Terra could see that two of his fingernails had been torn down to the quick.

"Who are you?" asked Yura, limping as he came forward. "What do you want?" His eyes narrowed, flashing dangerously in the golden haze that surrounded them. Electricity crackled in the air around him, mingling with the embers that swirled about Terra's pale form, their elements combining in a silent form of communication.

Strago backed against the wall, his arm around Relm as the precocious ten-year-old peered out from behind his cloak. "I sense incredible magic power in Terra," Strago whispered, his voice barely rising in his throat. "No... It's more than just magic. It's the essence of something ancient, something deeper, stronger than the rest."

Light danced across the walls, the shadows moving, fleeing from the electric currents and glowing embers. Terra and Yura stood facing each other, their eyes locked, their bodies enveloped in swirling torrents of lightning and fire. It was enough to force the others into a corner with Strago and Relm, the intensity of the heat crisping the hair on their arms and threatening to singe their clothing. Then all at once the shimmering bands of electricity vanished, with Yura falling forward, collapsing into Terra's arms.

Terra inhaled sharply, the flames dissolving as she looked down at the bruised and bloodied Esper. Yura struggled for a moment, trying and failing to stand. The last of his strength gave out, and together they fell, with Yura pulling her down as he hit the ground on his knees.

"Please stop. You'll hurt yourself." Terra held him upright, her left arm under his right, the other around his back as he slumped against her shoulder. "You shouldn't try to move right now," she said, her voice not unlike that of a kindly mother caring for her children.

Yura swallowed hard, taking several deep breaths in an effort to maintain his composure. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his head down with strands of hair falling forward to frame his face. His muscles ached with exhaustion, his every action requiring a tremendous amount of effort, and slowly he lifted his head, eyes widening with curiosity. "You're not like them, are you?"

Terra smiled at him, her expression warm and caring. "No, I'm not. I'm somewhere in between. Part human and part Esper."

The Espers who'd been hiding in the shadows turned to one another, whispering and muttering. One of the smaller Espers came forward, his pale wings drooping on either side of his bruised and battered body. He approached Terra, stopping by her feet and giving her a tentative sniff before standing on his hind legs and looking up at her.

"Just as I thought," Yura whispered, gazing at her in wonder as though she were some precious treasure unearthed from the center of the globe. "You're the one we sensed outside the gate." He allowed himself a faint smile. "Yes, I see it now. You're Maduin's child. I bet he'd be proud of you if he could see what you've become." It was here that his expression darkened, his smile fading the moment he'd finished his sentence.

The atmosphere shifted, causing the luminescent haze to flicker and dim, wavering, like the flames of a candle when a strong wind passes by. "But there was another," Yura continued, slowly at first, as though he were afraid to speak. "Someone was with you, someone who had committed a terrible crime... Taking the essence of what we are and..." His voice cracked, and for a moment he seemed incapable of speech.

He remembered a feeling of separation, of longing so complete that it filled his heart with nothing but the deepest sorrow. Then came the voices, the return of his friends and family who'd been captured when the empire first invaded his world. But they had been changed, their cries hideously distorted, screaming and begging for release. It was the sound of their tormented voices that drove him over the edge, rage consuming him the moment she opened the gate.

Thinking back on what he'd done, Yura realized the damage he had caused, and that he had completely forgotten himself and his purpose when the gate cracked open, spilling moonlight across his face as he and his fellow Espers stood listening to the calls of their departed loved ones. He feared that he might not be able to control himself, his body shaking as he inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. Each inhalation brought with it a painful reminder of what he'd done, his heart aching, knowing that his friends wouldn't have wanted him to kill these innocent people. Moisture pooled in the corners of his eyes, his breathing hitched, and a truly wretched sob fell from his lips.

"Shh, it's alright." Terra carefully repositioned herself, her arms around him, one hand rubbing his back as she held him close. "You don't have to say anything," she whispered. "I know how it feels to lose myself and do awful things without meaning to."

"We only wanted to help our friends who'd been turned into magicite," Yura continued, his speech broken by hiccuping sobs. "Because we knew... To absorb so much magic, to keep taking in so much until we felt the whole of our clan inside him... There couldn't be anything left. Some of us doubted it for a while, thinking that maybe they'd gone into hibernation until it was safe to come out again. But we couldn't hear their voices calling from beyond the gate. Not until he came. And then we knew for sure that they were gone."

His words were enough to rekindle Terra's memories of the last time they met, with Kefka giggling and stumbling as he emerged from the cave. His face was torn and bleeding with drops of crimson staining his hands. It was obvious that he'd done this to himself. What baffled her was how no one seemed to pity him, seeing only the man he'd become and not the man he was. Goodness knows she had her moments, waking up in an unfamiliar village only to find the houses burning, flames raging out of control before she shuddered and felt her consciousness slip away, taking a back seat to the innate magical ability she inherited from her father.

She looked back at the others, glancing over her shoulder as Yura continued to weep and moan. "We have to help them," she said, her attention focused on General Leo and Celes. "I know you wanted to have your talk with them, but they're hurt, and I doubt if these little ones can even walk out of here on their own," she added, motioning towards a group of Espers that were huddled in the corner.

"Talk?" Yura lifted his head, looking nervously from Terra to Celes. "What talk?

"She's right," said Leo, nodding in agreement. "I would like the Espers to join us in Thamasa, but not until they've received proper medical care. Of course, we shall need their permission first," he added, seeing the look of fear and uncertainty in Yura's eyes. "These creatures - "

"People," Terra corrected, cutting him off in mid-sentence.

"People," Leo echoed, nodding once again. "These people have seen and suffered much. I will not ask them to consider an audience with us until after they've had their wounds treated by one of our accomplished healers."

"Oh, for God's sake, Leo," Celes snapped, rolling her eyes at his choice of words. "I'm a Rune Knight. Not some nurse whose only goal in life is the care and treatment of people who've been injured in battle."

Leo and Terra exchanged nervous glances. They knew that Celes was capable of using healing magic, but was she really the best person for the job? If anything, she might succeed in healing one or two of them before losing her temper with some of the more impatient youngsters. Which could have devastating results if the Espers decided she was a threat to their safety.

"Maybe you should let me do it," said Terra, hesitating slightly before she spoke. "I think they trust me. And no offense, Celes, but you'd probably frighten the little ones."

"Frighten them?!"

Terra winced at the sound of Celes' harsh response. The Esper that had come forward and was sniffing her feet started, scurrying across the cave where it hid behind a rock. Even Locke took a step back, tugging on his bandana so that it covered his ears.

"Celes," said Leo, his voice not unkind. "I'm sure we can all work together and lend a hand. I apologize for my poor choice of words," he added, seeing her lips turn downward in a fierce scowl.

"Yes," Yura said at length. He raised a hand to wipe away the tears that were slowly streaming down his cheeks, looking more than a little surprised at their offer to help his injured kin. "Yes, I will allow it. In fact I will graciously welcome your assistance. Though I do not know why you would choose to help after what we did to your people."

"Why wouldn't we?" Leo queried, returning Yura's look of astonishment. "Even if you were my enemy, it is not in my nature to abandon someone when they are in need of assistance."

In that moment Leo finally started to relax. His heart felt lighter, less troubled by the worries he'd carried with him from Vector. He was able to forget about the bizarre apparition he'd witnessed in the cave, thinking only of the task at hand as he began working alongside Terra and the others. This was something they could do together, and it was just enough to keep the darkness at bay a little while longer.


	58. Leo Rising

The circle of the sun moved towards the western hemisphere, turning the skies a dusky shade of pale rose tinged with cerulean and gold. A gentle breeze was blowing over the rocky hillside, catching the drooping blossoms and caressing their petals, while below ground the Espers slept, their ancient and exhausted forms recovering from the injuries they'd sustained in battle.

Those who had the ability to cast healing spells were given some of the elixir Terra carried with her in her supply pack, helping to speed the recovery process as they were aided by the Esper's magic. Others were given potions, their wounds cleaned and dressed, while Locke and General Leo worked to provide proper burials for those who'd passed away. Some of the Espers recovered quickly, while others required more time and care due to broken bones and lingering infections that left them weakened and unable to leave the cave.

It was thanks to Terra that General Leo was allowed to care for the Espers, his arms around a sleeping Esper who'd dozed off in his lap. He stood up slowly, trying not to wake the creature, and smiled as the Esper stretched a tiny paw, its toes spread as it opened its jaws and yawned. The Esper then snuggled against his chest, clinging to him like a small child.

"They really are quite precious when they're asleep," he said, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the softly snoring creature. "It's a wonder the empire decided to imprison them, treating them as nothing more than an energy source." He looked up at Terra, who was sitting close by with a canteen of water in her hand, the container half raised to her lips as she prepared to take a sip.

Their eyes met in the shadowy recesses of the cave, with General Leo finding it difficult to hold her gaze.

"I knew, Terra," he said simply, and she lowered the canteen, blinking and looking at him in confusion. He swallowed hard, forcing the words past the uncomfortable knot that had settled in his chest. "I was there the day Emperor Gesthal and his men returned from Esper world. You were among the prisoners they brought to the empire, wrapped in a sodden bundle of cloth and crying like there was no tomorrow." He let his gaze drift towards the ground. "I don't think my father would have agreed to it if he knew what the Emperor had planned for those they captured. I remember him pointing at you, then kneeling down and telling me, 'That one's special, she is. We believe she's some sort of hybrid, an impossible combination of both human and Esper.'

"None of that mattered to me, Terra. I didn't see you as a miraculous being born with a gift that could be harnessed and used as a weapon. I saw an innocent child, frightened and alone. I don't think my father saw you as a weapon either. He was fascinated by your kind, and admitted to wanting to learn and study 'such magnificent beings'. He told me that such people were likely to possess a great deal of knowledge and wisdom, and he was horrified by the empire's methods of experimentation. We both were. And yet we did nothing to help... I did nothing, even though I knew what you were and that you were being made to suffer."

He closed his eyes, suddenly aware of each throbbing pulse beneath his ribs. It was something he'd been forced to live with for several years, the burden of knowing that he could have made a difference if he tried. Sometimes the feeling would subside, his pain eased by the sight of her running through the streets of Vector, laughing and playing with the other children. But it was never enough to erase those feelings and memories completely. And before long she was forced to return, with Kefka's hand closing around her wrist, pulling her away from the others and leading her into seclusion.

"I'm sorry, Terra," he said at length, his eyes opening when he felt the furry bundle wriggling in his arms. The Esper uttered a series of soft, mewling cries, its whiskers quivering, paws clenched as the gentle whimpers built into an all out wail. "Shh, hush now," Leo whispered gently, placing the Esper over his shoulder and patting its back. "You're alright, little fella."

When he looked back at Terra a smile had formed on her lips. She placed her hand on his arm, her voice kind, sympathetic, as she looked at him and said, "It's okay, Leo. Just because you didn't help doesn't mean that you don't care. I believe your heart is in the right place, though I doubt if there was anything anyone could have done in that situation."

"Terra." Leo grinned, shaking his head at her kind words. "I'll never know how you can be so forgiving, even after being mistreated and abused for so long. There are a lot of people who would become bitter and resentful. But you just keep on shining, like a beacon of hope in the darkest hours that we face." He adjusted the Esper on his shoulder, who by now had quieted down and fallen asleep. "This is the end, isn't it? We'll be able to live in peace after this, and hopefully the empire will learn something from the tragedy that occurred in Vector."

Terra nodded in agreement. "That's why I was able to hold on, Leo. Because I always had hope that things would get better."

'And did it?' a voice questioned in the back of her mind. 'Are you truly happy now? Or is there something missing? Something that you can't reclaim no matter how much you hope and pray for its return?'

To that she had no answer, no spoken word that could express what she was feeling. She could only hope the answer was out there, perhaps lying in wait in some darkened corner of the world. Because despite what Kefka had told her, Terra still believed in having hope, for he was the one who had given it to her in the first place.

\-----------------

The morning dawned bright and clear, with only a trace of wind ruffling the flowers on the hillside. Most of the roses had been cleared near the entrance of the cave, creating a path for General Leo who, out of the kindness of his heart, was helping Yura to stand and walk out into the early morning sunshine.

The young Esper moved slowly and cautiously, leaning on the General for support as they continued the journey uphill. The injury to his ankle had mostly healed, leaving Yura with a slight limp when he walked. But Leo wasn't taking any chances, saying that he didn't want to risk further injury when Yura was so close to making a full recovery.

"And where do we go from here?" asked Yura, who was utterly baffled by the show of concern from the General. He could see someone like Terra willingly giving of herself and her time to care for them, but this man had come from the empire, a nation left in ruins after he and his fellow Espers had demolished the city. "You spoke of a village on the easternmost side of the island. Is that where you wish to go now that we are well enough to travel?"

"Yes," Leo replied, shifting his weight so that Yura could lean on him more comfortably. "I would be most pleased if you would consider joining us in Thamasa, where we could settle for a while and have a proper discussion like two civilized men."

Yura grunted, stumbling slightly and lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight as they approached the mouth of the cave. "That sounds reasonable enough. We will come with you to the village." He paused, allowing a faint smile to curl the corners of his lips. "You are very kind, sir. I look forward to having a peaceful place to rest before returning home."

One by one the Espers joined them outside, with several wincing at the bright sunlight that filtered through the overhanging branches. Most of them were grateful to leave the cavern they'd been forced to take shelter in during the past few weeks. Others left with a heavy heart, grieving the loss of family and friends who'd been buried in the lower levels of the cave. It wasn't until they'd left the cave and were halfway down the mountain when Yura felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle, the atmosphere shifting and becoming heavier, more oppressive, almost as though a dark cloud had descended from the skies and settled over the island.

"What is that?" he asked, baring his fangs and snarling as he turned in the direction of the village. His ears perked up, listening to the howling winds that wound their way through the narrow canyons. "Do you not hear that?" He looked towards the sky, shuddering as a sudden chill passed over him. "There is a fell voice on the wind."

"Excuse me," said Leo, moving past the others to stand at the head of the group. If this was another one of Kefka's tricks, he decided it was best to meet it head on, rather than fleeing from it as he had done in the cave.

The General was still for several minutes, eyes scanning the hillside for any sign of movement. The wind began to whisper over the leaves, shaking the thorny branches until they scraped against the canyon walls.

"Where are you?" he called out, not knowing who his enemy might be. "I ask that you show yourself at once."

The bushes quivered in response, a growing darkness enveloping the flowers that hung their weary heads from within a tangle of branches and leaves. Then came the sound of laughter, of childish snickers and giggling drifting on the wind, and Leo ran towards it, unaware that the shadows were spreading, closing around him with each step he took.

His heart was beating faster now, his feet carrying him to the edge of a cliff overlooking the valley below. There was something in the air that called his name, beckoning him and directing his attention towards the sky.

He started slightly, a sharp intake of breath filling his lungs when he realized that he could see pinpricks of light against the sky, each one shining like the brightest stars in winter. It were as though the moon had passed before the sun, creating a premature dusk as shades of violet and midnight blue painted the horizon. This moment, which surely felt like an eternity to him, lasted but a second as daylight was restored, leaving the General shaking, his sword falling from his grasp as he stumbled forward and struck the ground on his knees.

"Leo!" Terra cried, her footsteps piercing the silence that descended upon the group. "Leo, what's wrong? What did you see out there?"

Beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead, his neck and chest drenched in a layer of cold sweat. "I saw..." Leo began slowly, struggling to find the words to describe what he had felt when darkness eclipsed the sun. "I saw nothing. But I felt a presence. I felt hatred and malice so intense it stained the earth and skies with the strength of its own corruption." He looked over his shoulder at her, and Terra saw that the color had drained from his face, leaving his features a pale shade of grayish-bronze. "We must go. It will do us no good to linger on the mountain."

"Fool!" Yura spat, clenching his fists in an effort to maintain control over the fury that was stirring in his chest. "You think I wouldn't recognize that... that abomination?" He looked at the others, his mane bristling with electricity. "If this is some sort of trick..." he began, his sentence ending abruptly when Terra came between them.

"I wouldn't do that to you," she said, speaking in a voice of forced calm, while inside her pulse was racing. She too had recognized his magical aura, though she hadn't the slightest clue why it could be felt here, of all places, when Kefka had been imprisoned for his crimes against Doma. "You know that my intentions are pure, and so are his." She motioned with a wave of her hand to Leo, who was still on his hands and knees, watching them from over his shoulder. "We aren't going to hurt you."

Yura considered them for a moment, his shoulders sinking as he visibly relaxed. "Perhaps not," he said at length, his eyes traveling upwards until he was gazing at the sky. "But I doubt if he shares in your intentions."

\------------------

The group continued moving south, leaving the mountains and wooded hills behind after four days of travel. It was during this time that Leo became unusually quiet, a faraway look clouding his eyes when he sat outside in the evening, watching the sun set as the nights grew longer and the world gradually moved towards the middle of autumn.

His smile returned when the others spoke to him, and he was always willing to lend a hand whenever someone was in need of assistance. But his eyes had lost their warmth, that familiar shine fading as exhaustion stole over him, his mind troubled and weary. He wanted to tell them about the bizarre apparition he'd witnessed time and time again, until he couldn't be sure if he was asleep or experiencing some sort of waking dream. But there were Espers struggling to keep up with the group, frightened little ones who woke up crying, calling for their mother who'd been killed during the attack on Vector, and once more he found himself putting his needs aside in favor of helping the others.

Their travels came to an end less than a week later, when they reached the village of Thamasa during the late hours of the day. The sun had already begun to set when Leo walked down the cobblestone path, fully aware of the sinister presence lurking in the shadows towards the southern edge of town. He thought that he was the only one who noticed it, not realizing that Terra had felt it too, that Yura had detected its movements long before they reached the village. It wasn't until he saw a flash of light, followed by a burst of flames igniting the roof of a nearby house that he realized this wasn't an illusion.

"Kefka!" he shouted, his hand flying towards his sword. The Espers were already moving in a circle, standing together in preparation for the attack, while people ran screaming from the burning building. "If your business is with me then so be it! But I must ask that you leave the others out of this."

The mage shrieked with laughter and actually appeared to be approaching apoplexy when he looked up, staggering sideways and falling against the side of a building. "Oh, Leo," he said, grinning and wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "Do you really believe you're in a position to make demands of me?" He placed his hand against his chest, blinking and feigning surprise, then gasped and flung the back of his hand against his forehead. "Me! Of all people! Oh, woe is me, whatever could I have done to deserve such treatment? Idiot!" he screeched, leaning forward and bellowing the last word at the General. "I'm here on Emperor Gesthal's orders to turn these pathetic little beasties into magicite! So if you've got a problem with me, you can take it up with Gesthal."

"No," Leo breathed, his mouth suddenly dry. He appeared to wilt before Kefka's eyes, disbelief flooding his senses. "No, you cannot be serious. I was given orders to come here and make peace with them." His tone was desperate, almost pleading, and Kefka laughed at Leo's attempt to protect the Espers.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Leo?" Kefka raised his right hand, and Leo knew what was coming. Knew that fire would spring from his fingertips, a thousand embers rising, illuminating the twilight skies with the burning promise of absolute destruction. "Life is without meaning or purpose," he said, his voice low. "Better to eradicate it all and stop this foolishness."

With a flick of his wrist, Terra's body began to lift off the ground. She screamed when she realized what was happening, and Leo spun around, only to watch her flailing uselessly as Terra's friends were levitated as well.

"Terra!" Locke cried, his movements frantic, straining to reach her as they began to drift apart. He was determined to hold her, to leave this world together if they were about to meet their end, and managed to grasp her hand before being ripped from her embrace and hurled across the village.

The terrible reality of what he was seeing was enough to convince Leo that he wasn't losing his mind, and that Kefka's strength had far eclipsed that which had been predicted when the experiments began. Even now, as the Returners screamed and were carelessly tossed aside, Kefka was changing, staggering forward, his fingernails lengthening to the point where his hands were transformed into gruesome blades.

A howl of rage erupted from the gathering of Espers, and suddenly Leo was watching as Yura charged at Kefka. He barely had time to react before Kefka sunk his claws into Yura's flesh, blood spurting towards the sky as his arm was torn from its socket. A second later and he was falling, scarlet fluid cascading over grass as he tried using his remaining arm to crawl away from the sadistic mage. But Kefka wouldn't have it. No, this one wasn't getting away. He seized Yura's leg, hearing the Esper's terrified screams as he launched the unfortunate creature nearly half a mile into the air.

Flames ignited in the palm of his hand, laughter spewing from his lips as he hurled a massive fireball towards Yura's airborne body. The intensity of the flames was enough to melt the skin off his bones, his features hideously distorted, dripping liquefied flesh down his neck and chest. One side of Yura's face sagged towards the ground, ashes falling as curls of burning hair drifted on the wind, his screams forever silenced as the charred remnants of his body were transformed into crystalized magic.

"Kefka, no!" Leo shouted, panic rising in his chest. He watched helplessly as Kefka summoned the crystal towards him, catching it in his hand before another forceful wave of laughter split the corners of his face.

"Oh, hello, Leo," said Kefka, his tone surprisingly calm. The laughter died in his throat, a lopsided grin curling towards his left ear, and he slowly turned towards the General as though seeing him for the first time. "Nice weather we're having," he said, waving at him with Yura's severed arm clenched in his fist.

Leo gagged when he saw the dangling digits merrily bobbing up and down, but was unable to look away as the savage clown stood there, just grinning and waving like he hadn't a care in the world.

"You're insane!" Leo exclaimed, his voice faltering, one hand flying to his mouth to keep from getting sick.

Kefka laughed at this, chuckling as blood from the severed limb dripped and ran down his wrist. This was the sort of violence he thrived on, excitement building, burning white hot and pulsing in his chest. He then summoned the heat from within his veins, and what remained of Yura's psychical body turned to ash in his hand.

This act of mindless cruelty was enough to send the Espers running, panicking as lightning swept across the skies. The magic from their fallen kin merged with the electricity surging through the clouds, the heavens alight with the fury of Kefka Palazzo, and one by one he struck them down, turning Yura's magic against them in a vulgar display of power.

Kefka's harsh, screaming laughter filled the air, emerald streaks soaring past as Leo spun around, watching as the shards of magicite gathered about the crazed magician, their luminous forms hovering like incandescent fireflies. And yet the light failed to penetrate the darkness that surrounded him, his aura pulsing, rushing outwards and spreading like a plague upon the earth.

The voice he heard choked suddenly, perhaps suffocating under the weight of its own immense power, offering up nothing more than a fruity giggle that dropped in pitch until it resembled the sickly, feral cries that were heard throughout the city during the attack on Vector. His steps faltered, and for a moment Leo thought Kefka would collapse, his body giving out under the combined energies he'd collected from the Espers.

It was during this moment that Leo realized two things, the first being that Kefka had to be stopped. The second was that to challenge him would be suicide. But like his father before him, Leo knew that he must face his opponent with courage, taking a stand against the murderous clown even if it meant losing his life in battle.

Kefka, sensing his intentions, lifted his head, eyes burning with perpetual flames of hatred and repulsion. His thoughts alone were enough to cause the building on his left to crumble, bricks shooting from the rapidly disintegrating walls like bullets, hurtling towards the startled General.

Acting quickly, Leo made a sweeping motion with his sword, slashing the air in front of him and generating a shockwave which collided with the bricks, turning them to dust in an instant.

A harsh cry built within his chest, his voice carrying across the streets of Thamasa as he charged at Kefka. Sunlight glinted off the surface of his sword, slashing once, twice, three times before Kefka leapt back, the fourth missing completely as his opponent turned over in midair, striking the General on the underside of his chin with the toe of his boot.

Leo fell back, staggering from the blow. His sword clattered against the earth, falling from his grasp as he struck the ground on his back. He rolled over onto his side, dazed and groaning, tasting blood on his lips. It wouldn't be long until the clown recovered, and when he did, Leo knew that he would be furious. He reached for his sword, hoping to grasp the shining blade before Kefka could unleash his wrath, and yelped when a bolt of lightning struck the earth just inches away from his hand.

His eyes widening, Leo held his hand against his chest, looking back at the mage whose lean form was cloaked in blackness so complete it swallowed all traces of color and light. "Get up!" a voice yelled from within his mind, and for a moment he wasn't sure if he was hearing his own voice or if Kefka was communicating telepathically with him. He supposed either was possible at this point, the realization creating a sudden sense of urgency, driving him forward, and he seized his sword just as Kefka screamed and summoned a hail of lightning from the skies.

Undaunted by the deadly rain falling from the sky, Leo charged at him a second time, the ground erupting on either side of him as lightning split the earth, throwing up clouds of dust and debris that spread throughout the village.

The shimmering lights contained within the shards of magicite flickered, the mage's breath quickened, nearing hyperventilation, as one shockwave collided with the other, darkness meeting light head on in the center of the village. It was all he could do to withstand the force of Kefka's attack, straining against the wall of shadow that was threatening to overwhelm his very being. Adrenaline coursed through his body in anger and frustration, and he roared, plunging his crystalline blade into the heart of darkness.

A scream suddenly erupted from the center of the shapeless mass, the noise inverting upon itself as the shadows expanded and collapsed. Golden streams of sunlight flooded the surrounding area, racing to fill the spaces left behind when Leo shattered the darkness that engulfed the crazed magician.

His chest heaving, Leo staggered forward, his eyes darting this way and that. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, like a warning bell screeching and clanging in his mind. Kefka couldn't have vanished when he broke through the barrier. It was impossible. Or was this nothing more than an illusion?

And then he heard it, the familiar shrieking laughter, rolling like thunder across the sky. The sound was distant. It was everywhere and yet it was no where at all, filling the cold spaces between the clouds.

 _"Ah, Leo,"_ a voice whispered, sighing from its place amongst the heavens. _"Always the consummate soldier..."_

"Where are you, Kefka?" Leo cried, his muscles tense, gripping the hilt of his sword as he turned in a circle, still searching for the wayward wizard. "Show yourself!"

A warm wind kicked up behind him, scattering the auburn leaves that had fallen from the trees. They moved and danced across the cobblestone path, their brittle bodies making a low rattling noise that, to Leo, sounded a little like bones, a little like laughter. He watched them go, rolling and tumbling over each other, and as he watched, that familiar sense of unreality crept into his mind, distorting his view of the world.

The leaves halted their movements, coming to a complete stop in midair before time looped back on itself, casting the leaves aside and returning them to their place on the ground. Branches bent and swayed in the wind, waving in slow motion. The voice continued to whisper, hissing and gliding across the leaves, sinking beneath the bark and maneuvering through the cracks, and Leo realized with a terrifying suddenness that the voice was speaking to him.

_"Why, Leo? Tell me why. Why do you persist? Are you living just for pleasure, or for reasons yet unknown? How do you justify a life without meaning or purpose?"_

Leo felt his gaze being drawn upwards, his chin lifting as though an invisible hand was guiding his movements. He looked towards the burning building that caught fire when Kefka made his grand entrance, watching as a figure emerged from the rising columns of smoke and ash.

 _"Emperor Gesthal!"_ cried the voice on the wind. _"I'm so sorry, your Highness. I would've had the magicite sooner, but this ever loving goody goody keeps getting in my way!"_

"But your Majesty..." said Leo, dropping onto one knee as the strength went out of his legs. It felt as though all the world were crumbling beneath his feet, one horrible reality layering on top of the other, and he hoped, now more than ever, that what he was seeing was nothing more than an illusion. "If what he says is true," he said at length, struggling to find his voice, "then what is my part in this? What exactly have I been fighting for?"

The sunlight was failing now, embers drifting on the wind as Gesthal approached the General. He watched, not unsympathetic towards his servant, as Leo let his sword fall to the ground. "I'm sorry I had to deceive you, Christophe," he said gently, placing a hand on Leo's shoulder. "It was a cruel trick to play on one as kind hearted and loyal as you are," he added, shaking his head as though he truly regretted his actions. "But it was the only way to obtain the last of the magicite. You understand, don't you?"

Leo was finding this confession difficult to bear, and for the first time in his life he found himself unable to meet the Emperor's gaze. He bowed his head, his breath hissing through his teeth as hot tears spilled down the sides of his face. How could he face this man knowing what he'd done, his eyes like mirrors, reflecting his actions back at him, reminding him of the role he played in the Espers' destruction.

"Christophe," Gesthal murmured, his fingers digging into Leo's shoulder. The General was unaware of this change in pressure, his thoughts consumed with over a dozen things he could have done or said that might have prevented this from happening. "I noticed that you've been having some difficulties as of late. Which is most likely due to your father's passing, correct?"

Leo said nothing. He was past the point of being able to form an intelligent response, and so he simply nodded, not knowing what else to do or how to respond to the Emperor's question. He was, in fact, quite weary, his heart burdened by grief, his mind running in endless circles. He didn't notice when Gesthal reached for his sword, his boney fingers curling around the hilt as golden strands replaced the greying mane of hair that spilled past the Emperor's shoulders.

"I thought as much." Gesthal's voice was surprisingly calm, speaking gently as though he were attempting to soothe a crying child. "Perhaps it's time for you to take a well-earned rest. A very long rest."

There was a rustling of fabric as Gesthal drew back, followed by a sharp intake of breath as twelve inches of polished crystal was driven through Leo's chest. The blade went in as easily as the tines of a meat-fork into the breast of a well roasted chicken, the tip protruding from his back, dripping blood onto the earth.

Leo's mouth dropped open, his eyes wide, staring into the face of Kefka Palazzo that had replaced the leering, wrinkled features of Emperor Gesthal.

Kefka's eyes were half open, glazed, his pallid fingers curled around the hilt of Leo's sword. "You still haven't given me an answer, Leo." He leaned forward, stopping when his face was inches from the General's. "How do you justify a life without meaning or purpose? Love and happiness - they're worthless pursuits. Though I suppose it doesn't matter, now does it? Because whatever reason you had will mean nothing once you're dead."

The General tried to speak, but was unable to utter more than a harsh, gurgling groan. One of his hands crept towards Kefka's arm and squeezed convulsively before going slack. Blood ran in a thin stream from the corner of his mouth, his heart seized up, racing frantically before stalling in chest.

Images swam before his eyes, the colors of Kefka's makeup blurring, fading, turning to black. He was distantly aware of the earth beneath his feet, the feeling of solidity shifting, closing around him as he fell to the ground. He was given a moment, one last opportunity to look to the sky and see clouds stretching across the horizon, and a single word passed between his lips.

"Father."

"Come then, Leo," a voice seemed to say, but it wasn't the same as the malevolent voice that had called to him before. It was a voice that promised peace and comfort, and he reached towards it, feeling sunlight on his face and warmth surging through his veins.

There was no anxiety or fear of impending finality, no thought of holding onto something that would soon be torn away. What he found was relief in knowing that Kefka was wrong, that some things still exist beyond the realm of the living. And as he reached out he felt Regulus take his hand, grasping tightly, never letting go, together in eternity at last.


	59. To Capture The Heavens

The last trace of sunlight had already left the sky, twilight seeping through the clouds as Terra opened her eyes, shifting slightly and taking a look around. There was a light rustle of leaves, of branches twisting and breaking beneath her weight, and when she looked up she could just make out a scattering of stars across the sky.

Her muscles ached with each movement, however it could have been much worse without the dense foliage to break her fall. It was enough to make her wonder if Kefka had chosen this spot to avoid damaging his favorite toy, or if the fates had intervened, protecting her from harm. It wasn't until she felt a pair of arms around her midsection, lifting her from the ground and helping her to her feet, that she realized she wasn't alone.

Locke took a step back, stumbling slightly as he pulled her from the tangle of branches and stems. His heart lifted at the sight of her bright, green eyes looking up at him, though he quickly dropped his gaze, searching for bruises or other signs of injury before returning to her face.

"You're not hurt, are you?" he asked, his hands closing around her own.

"I... I don't think so." She glanced at the rips in her dress, at the line of blood that had dried on her forearm. There were some minor scrapes from where the branches dug into her arms, but that was all. "No, there's nothing wrong," she said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I'm fine, Locke."

Her eyes traveled the length of the village, curious, though not looking forward to seeing the damage that had taken place. It was dark enough that she could see embers glowing in the distance, their flickering forms smoldering in the night. A second building, not far from the burned wreckage of the mayor's house, had collapsed, with nothing but broken boards and a scattering of bricks visible in the fading light.

Minimal damage, she told herself, thankful that Kefka hadn't decided to burn the village to the ground. But something wasn't right. The atmosphere, once heavy with the essence of magic, had cleared, almost as though a veil of fog had been lifted. And then she saw it, a figure lying on the ground, surrounded by her friends and fellow rebels.

Her heart plummeted into the pit of her stomach when she realized what had happened. She tried moving forward, but the strength had gone out of her limbs, and she stumbled, collapsing against Locke's chest.

"Hey, I thought you said you were alright." Locke caught her around the waist, looking at her with concern as she began to struggle frantically. "Terra, wait. What're you - " His sentence was cut short by an anguished wail as Terra escaped his grasp, running towards the group that had gathered in the center of the village.

Celes looked up when she heard Terra's cries, her stoic mask failing, falling from its usual place. She raised a hand to her mouth, her fingers twisting, curling into a fist that she pressed against her lips to keep from crying. But her eyes betrayed her, shining with unshed tears.

For one brief moment Celes felt compelled to reach out, sorrow overriding the magic in her blood as she sought comfort in the arms of her childhood friend. It wasn't something she wanted to do, but it was something she so desperately needed, because the man they'd lost had been more than just a friend. He was the first to care for her after her parents passed away, giving her food and shelter until she started staying with Dr. Cid. But her cold, unyielding personality won out in the end, forcing her to remain silent, so as not to let the others see her grief.

One by one the others looked up as well, hearing Terra's cries as she ran towards them. Locke was chasing her across the village, one arm outstretched, not wanting her to see what had become of the fallen General. He knew the kind of person that she was, her kindness and sensitivity being some of her most prominent traits, and as always, he wanted to protect her in any way he could. Keep her safe, that little voice inside his head whispered. But her footsteps were quick, leaving him in the dust while the others looked on in silence.

The sight that met her eyes when Terra approached her friends was one of absolute chaos, with splintered pieces of rock protruding from mounds of soil. Strago had the sense to remove his cloak, using it to cover the body of General Leo. But the length of fabric was not enough to cover him completely, and as Terra entered the circle of destruction, she was able to discern a pair of boots just visible beneath a layer of red and gold material.

Terra looked about in panic, wondering if she was in the wrong location - hoping that there was a mistake; that Leo hadn't been murdered along with nearly a dozen of her fellow Espers. But in her heart she knew there could be no mistaking what had happened, and although she had always known him to be capable of such violence, she never thought Kefka would go so far as to kill General Leo.

She was suddenly reminded of an incident long ago, the world awash in flames as General Leo ran with her in his arms. The images were so vivid, the sound of Kefka's laughter rising above the chaos as though he were right there next to her. At the time she had managed to convince herself that it was an accident, that Kefka wasn't in control of his magic and had simply cast a spell without knowing its strength beforehand. She realized how foolish she'd been, and that it shouldn't have taken Leo's death to show her what he'd become.

Her knees struck the earth a moment later, collapsing beside the fallen General. Locke knelt behind her, steadying her shoulders as she shook with great, heaving sobs.

"Why did he do this?" Terra's voice was hoarse, choked with sadness and barely able to rise above a whisper. "Why Leo, when he was always so kind and compassionate? And the Espers..." She shook her head, the movement subtile, as tears cascaded down her face. "They didn't deserve this. None of them did."

Locke couldn't even respond. He simply gazed at her sadly.

"This man left the world with honor and bravery," Strago began slowly, staff in hand as he addressed the group. "I know that he was not a member of the Returners, but he still deserves to be given a proper burial."

At this, Celes nodded solemnly. "I'll do it," she said, lifting her head and gazing into the stillness of the evening skies. She feared that if she looked at Terra the sight would be enough to push her over the edge, her mask failing completely as she wept before them. "You don't have to trouble yourself if you don't want to."

Silence followed her words, broken only by the sound of crickets stirring in the autumn air.

"No." Terra breathed a word, and as she did so, her eyes flashed with the ancient radiance she inherited from her father. "Leo was my friend, too. He was a friend to everyone and he never failed to do what he could for others. I don't think..." She paused, swallowing hard, her throat constricting with emotion. "I don't think he'd want us separated like this. If anything he'd want us to come together. He wouldn't want us to drift apart."

There was another moment of silence.

"She's right." Locke looked upon the faces of those who had gathered there, his gaze lingering on Celes the longest. "It's stupid to let ourselves be torn apart by something like this." He gestured towards the broken earth, to the mounds of crumbling rocks and soil that surrounded Leo's body. "We've already let that circus freak separate us once before. Are we going to stand back and let it happen all over again? Because if we do, I can guarantee you that Leo won't be the last to die in all of this. There'll be more. Maybe one of us, or who knows what's next. Hell, I don't even know what we're doing anymore, or where we go from here. But I know that we have to stay together if we are to survive this."

It was surprising that someone such as Locke, a ragged thief with nothing but a faded bandana to hold his unkempt hair out of his face, somehow looked more resolute than anyone. He felt ready to lash out, a desire for vengeance burning in his heart. It didn't matter if he had to strangle Kefka with his bare hands, losing a piece of his own humanity along the way. Because neither Rachel nor Leo deserved what happened to them, and he'd be damned if he was going to sit there and watch as more innocent lives were lost.

"Fine then." Celes bit her bottom lip, the moisture that pooled in the corners of her eyes finally spilling down her cheeks. "We'll do this together. And you're right. It's what he would've wanted."

"Celes," Terra whispered, her tone pleading, reaching out to the blond knight. There was no reason for Celes to suffer alone, pretending like she didn't feel anything when Terra knew how much Leo meant to her.

Strago watched the two girls, his hands atop the knotted length of wood that curled the tip of his staff. When it seemed apparent that neither was going to speak, he motioned towards the trees growing along the eastern half of the village. "Come," he said softly, turning and moving towards the cemetery that lay nestled in a forest of ancient fir trees.

A cold wind blew across the village, grasping the hem of Celes' cloak and whipping it out behind her as she followed Strago into the woods. After a moment the others joined her, though their hearts were heavy with sorrow, their limbs moving slowly as though trudging through waist deep floodwaters, and together they entered the forest.

When they reached the point where moonlight no longer lit their path, Strago stopped and lightly tapped his staff against the earth. His voice low, the old mage muttered an incantation which caused the tip of his staff to glow brightly in the shadowy confines of the cemetery.

"Not much farther now," he said, the pale light casting shadows amongst the headstones, and suddenly Celes was reminded of the cemetery Dr. Cid had created in memory of the Espers who'd passed away.

She remembered the roses that lined the counter in his greenhouse, each one containing a miniature cross bearing the name of an Esper. Those roses were the start of everything for her, leading to advancements in the field of Magitek knights. And despite what she had told him, Leo still refused to see magic as something beautiful that flourished in nature.

"Wait." Celes halted her movements, then looked over at Strago who was wearing a curious expression on his face. "The flowers that I've seen growing in the village and in the mountains outside the cave. Those are magic flowers, also known as the Thamasian rose."

"Yes, those are indeed the enchanted flowers of Thamasa," Strago replied, wondering where exactly she was going with this.

"Are there any in the village that aren't magical?" she asked, thinking that Leo wouldn't be happy if she placed magic roses on his grave.

The blue mage rubbed his chin thoughtfully, taking his time to carefully consider her question. "There are certain varieties which lack the magical essence found in that particular type of plant. Though they are difficult to come by, I could locate them, if you wish."

"Yes, please," said Celes, managing to smile through her tears. "That would be perfect."

\--------------

Starlight filtered through the clouds as the evening wore on, with Celes sitting in patch of silver moonlight, watching the stars rise above the treetops. She had taken a break from digging, her tired limbs aching and sore.

She didn't know how long they'd been at it, shifting and moving several pounds of dirt as they prepared Leo's final resting place in a clearing amongst the trees. And all the while her mind kept replaying images from her childhood, seeing Leo in the sun, smiling as he ran through the streets.

Her arms closed around her chest, hugging herself tightly as tears pricked her eyes. Even with the others close by Celes felt alone in her grief. There was no one she could speak with that would comfort her, no words or actions to take away the pain. She would face this on her own, like always, moving forward one step at a time when she was ready.

When the time came to lay him to rest, Terra and Celes both removed their cloaks, wrapping him snugly in the soft fabric. Together they placed him in the grave, positioned his limbs so that he might have been resting, then climbed out and gazed upon his body one last time.

"Someone should say something," said Celes, half glancing at Terra and waiting for her to speak. The others murmured words of agreement, not really knowing how to begin, and so she continued. "Leo Christophe, you were my mentor, my brother and my father and my friend. You gave me knowledge and strength when I was in training, you gave me comfort and warmth when I was alone. You were truly one of a kind, a man whose heart was big enough to love everyone in the world, and I thank you for everything you've given me."

Terra nodded once, her eyes widening a moment later when she felt Celes place an arm around her. She lifted her head, blinking and looking up at the blond knight, then closed her eyes and leaned against her, resting her head on Celes' shoulder.

In the end it was Relm, using her paintbrushes to write Leo's name on the headstone after Locke and Strago had finished filling in the grave. She then took a step back, allowing Celes to place a bouquet of flowers on the mound of earth beneath the headstone.

Terra sighed heavily, raising a hand and wiping tears from her eyes. "I don't understand," she said softly. "Why do people have a need for power? Do they really all want to be like me?"

Silence greeted her question, and slowly they began to exit the cemetery, with Celes staying close to Terra, allowing the green-haired girl to lean on her for support.

\---------------

The hour was late when they returned to Strago's house. The old mage had kindly offered them a place to stay while they recovered from their loss, and they accepted, grateful to have somewhere warm to spend the night.

Celes moved in a daze towards the sofa in the living room, sitting down heavily on the plush furniture. None of this felt real anymore, her limbs moving and responding automatically, taking her from one place to the next as though she were drifting through the surreal landscape of her dreams.

'If only it were that simple,' Celes thought, unaware that Terra had laid down beside her. If only she could wake up and discover that she'd dozed off in Cid's greenhouse, sitting in the sunlight as the warmth of summer filled the cozy little building. But the reality of it all was that they'd just buried one of her good friends, and there was nothing she could do to bring him back.

Locke sat across from them, anxiously wringing his hands while gazing at the floor. There were several thoughts and questions going through his mind, the first pertaining to the friends they'd left behind at the empire. What had become of them since Kefka was released from prison? It was a thought that made his insides twist in an uncomfortable knot, his hands shaking slightly, wondering who would be next.

"We need to go back to Vector," he said, keeping his head down as he spoke. "I'm worried about Edgar and the others. But after everything that happened here this morning, do you really think the ship will take us back to Albrook?"

"No." Celes reached down and began absentmindedly stroking Terra's hair, trying to quiet her friend's sniffles. "I wouldn't be surprised if the soldiers onboard the ship tried to kill us as soon as we approached the dock."

The silence that followed was absolute. Even Terra had become still and quiet, with nothing but the occasional gust of wind stirring the trees outside.

After a time had passed, Strago placed his staff in the corner near the door, taking a seat by the fireplace and muttering a brief incantation to light the fire below the mantel. Relm approached him as he settled into the overstuffed armchair, her eyes red and swollen. The blue mage allowed her to crawl into his lap where she eventually fell asleep.

Even now, as Terra slept fitfully beside Celes, the dawn was not far away. Soon the sun would begin to rise, bringing with it another chance to face the day, as they gathered their strength and continued their battle against the empire.

\-----------------

The following morning brought with it the sound of anxious voices, piercing the silence as Celes opened her eyes, blinking and lifting her head. She could see that the sky was beginning to lighten, its pale color muted by the presence of clouds that had gathered on the horizon. If she had to guess, she'd say it was twenty minutes past sunrise, making wonder what had caused the citizens of Thamasa to stir so early in the morning.

Celes glanced at the sleeping figure beside her, noticing that Terra had dozed off with her head in her lap. The blond knight shifted slightly, one hand reaching for the throw pillow that had been squished behind her back. The last thing she wanted was to wake her now that Terra was finally asleep, and as she moved carefully to the left, she placed the pillow under Terra's head before standing and moving towards the door.

Someone was outside. Several people, from the sound of it. It was then that she noticed a familiar figure outside the window, his silvery hair just visible in the pale light of dawn.

"Setzer?" she breathed, her voice little more than a startled whisper. Celes was halfway across the room when the floor began to shake, the glass rattling in china cabinet on the opposite end of the room.

The quake stopped almost as soon as it began, lasting no more than a minute before the earth was still once more. But there was something, a faint vibration that caused the air to quiver, a heaviness in the atmosphere that bordered on suffocating. She felt it when her fingers curled around the doorknob, the tuneless vibration flowing through her skin and causing goosebumps to erupt down the length of her arm. At the same moment she realized that she could feel it in her feet, a steady tingle that went up her ankles and calves, turning her tendons into turning forks.

She turned the knob, opening the door to a gathering of her friends, with Setzer running ahead of the others, his long hair trailing out behind him as he maneuvered through the crowd of onlookers. He had just made it past the threshold when the tremors returned, stronger this time, and he stumbled forward, grasping the doorframe to keep from falling on his face.

"Celes." His look was frantic, greenish-blue eyes widening beneath strands of hair that had fallen into his face. "Where are the others? They are here, yes?" His question was answered with a startled yelp, the earth heaving with enough force to cause Terra to roll off the couch and onto the floor.

Relm awoke with a scream, the contents of the china cabinet shattering as a hail of porcelain figurines struck the ground. Locke, who by now was fully awake and gripping the armrest to keep from joining Terra on the floor, looked up when he saw Setzer standing in the doorway.

"What the hell is going on?!" he cried, a dull rumble coursing through the floorboards before the trembling ceased.

"The Emperor lied to us!" Setzer exclaimed, his voice rising in anger. "It was nothing but a clever rouse to gain our trust, and now he's headed for Terra's home world with that revolting clown in tow."

Terra looked up from her place on the floor, her heart beating a fierce tempo against her ribs. Kefka was on the move, but how on earth could he have reached the gate in such a short amount of time?

Setzer let go of the doorframe, moving to the right and allowing Sabin and the others to enter the building. "It was Edgar who discovered their crooked plot," he continued, taking a moment to smooth the wrinkles out of his coat. "He claims to have been 'exchanging pleasantries' with the lady who brought us tea. Though, from the sound of it, I'd say she must have been the religious type, what with her repeated exultations to a higher power." He glared at the King, who grinned and shrugged, looking rather unashamed of his actions.

Sabin groaned, one hand covering his face as his brother burst out laughing at his reaction. "The point is we need to get out of here," he said, lowering his hand before addressing the others. "Kefka's on the move with Gesthal, and there's no telling what they could get up to once they reach the Esper world."

"Young man," said Strago, the lines of his face creasing and forming a frown upon his ancient countenance. His arm curled protectively around his granddaughter, who was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling as though she feared the building would collapse at any moment. "You didn't hear them mention anything about the Warring Triad, did you?"

"Warring Triad?" Edgar's brow creased, one hand rubbing his chin as he thought back to the night in question. "I remember she said something about a group of statues, and that Gesthal needed access to them in order to complete his plans."

The words had barely left his mouth when another rolling tremor shook the earth. A frightened howl erupted in the center of the room as Gau shot out from under the table, his hunched form running on all fours as Locke and Terra got to their feet and fled the building. It wasn't until everyone was safely outside that Sabin noticed Leo's absence and, looking over his shoulder at Locke, asked what had become of the kindhearted General.

Locke bowed his head, and for a moment he was unable to find his voice. For although he hadn't been close to the General, the sobering truth of what they were up against had been made clear when Kefka slaughtered the Espers, then finished by taking the life of General Leo.

"He's dead, Sabin. Kefka murdered him." It was blunt, but there was no point in hiding from the truth.

"Sir Leo? Deceased?" It was Cyan who spoke, looking from Sabin to Locke. A heavy sigh passed between his lips, his shoulders sinking as he let his gaze drift towards the ground. "Tis most unfortunate. He was one of the few people in the empire who truly understood."

A collective silence fell upon the group, each coming to the realization that what had taken place was an absolute violation of nature. Previous to this episode, they had thought they'd seen Kefka at the height of power, his abilities, as well as the brutality by which he slaughtered the Espers, now mirroring the destructive forces of the gods.

Sabin blanched visibly, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "He can't be real," he said, his voice trembling as he spoke. "There must be limits to what a human being can become." He lifted his chin, looking to the skies and seeing the clouds in the east lit with a bloom of crimson fire.

Together they watched as an artery of color was torn open by a jagged bolt of lightning, spilling brilliant hues across the sky in shades of scarlet and gold. And for one, brief moment they could hear Kefka laughing on the wind, the sound echoing within the roar of thunder that shook the distant mountains.


	60. And Hell Will Follow Me

It was a different kind of magic that surrounded the entrance to their world; the kind that pulsed and hummed, the air alive and quivering with a force as old as the stars. Intoxicating was the smell, the feel of it when it passed over his skin, causing the hairs on his arms to stand at attention. And yet being in its presence seemed to have a negative effect on the magician's health, his steps faltering as they approached the entrance to the Esper world.

"Palazzo!" A hollow echo from somewhere up ahead. Someone was calling his name, attempting to summon him for his final mission. "My patience is wearing thin, Palazzo. Either you move your sorry hide or I'll drag you through the gate myself!"

Kefka sniffed, turning slowly and glaring at the Emperor. A warm trickle of blood slithered past his lips, oozing from his nostrils and dripping onto the barren earth. "You need me," he rasped, his voice no more than a hoarse crackle. "You know you can't reach the Warring Triad without me. Oh, you might make some progress on your own. But we both know that I'm the only one who is capable of raising the land."

Gesthal recoiled at the sound of his voice, and for a brief moment Kefka thought he saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. How delightful, he thought, that the Emperor should show fear this late in the game. Certainly took him long enough to realize what had become of his precious little pet. But this, like everything else, was insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

A spark of energy lit the caverns beyond the gate. Kefka felt his muscles contract, tensing at the feel of this ancient life force. Presently he moved towards it, the darkness lit with a thousand points of shimmering light, each one moving and vibrating of its own accord, until he no longer watched but had become part of infinite. This timeless energy helped soothe his pain, and he allowed his eyes to close, seeing light forming intricate patterns and shapes behind the blackness of his eyelids.

His pulse slowed, each step forward coming between heartbeats, the world passing by in flickers and shadows. When he opened his eyes, Kefka saw a group of Espers charging towards him, their calls muted, voices silenced beneath the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

These majestic creatures, once powerful enough to invoke a sense of awe from all who gazed upon them, were no match for Kefka as he lingered on the edge of his ascension. All who stood before him were carelessly tossed aside, some with no more than a flick of the wrist, others falling to their knees, screaming as he used his magic to boil their blood from within. Even the Emperor looked cowed, trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

The magician continued on his way, past fields of dull, greyish-green trees and bushes, his footsteps scorching the earth, leaving behind a trail of blackened foliage. The path before him was lit with twisted sinews of aged magic, their softly shimmering tendrils rising from the deep and coalescing at the base of a distant mountain. Even Gesthal was aware of their presence, the colors dull, somewhat faded but still visible before his eyes. He watched as they reacted to Kefka's magic, the particles of light moving faster, gaining speed as they encircled the mountain.

The vibrations within the earth began to swell, growing in strength until Gesthal was forced to cling to the nearest tree in order to maintain his balance. He looked to the sky just as Kefka made a circular motion with his hand, watching as the mage commanded the undulating strands of light to rise, soaring overhead like a comet before crashing down and erupting at the base of the mountain.

A roar of sound met his ears as the sides of the mountain gave way, revealing an earthen mound with the statues of the Warrior Triad placed at its center. Gesthal screamed as the earth caved in beneath his feet, trees and boulders collapsing on either side of him, but was unable to hear his voice over the tidal wave of sound. The shockwaves that followed were enough to knock the old man to the ground, with splinters of bark and pieces of rock levitating in the air around them. And all the while they continued to rise, an island in the sky formed by the explosions which separated the mountain from the earth.

A dizzying sense of vertigo left the Emperor clinging to the boulders that remained embedded in the earth. Forests and buildings shrank until they were nothing more than specks of color on the ground far below, the tremors diminishing until all that remained was an eerie silence pierced by a single voice which spoke directly into his mind.

"You wanted this," the voice whispered, and suddenly he felt his gaze being drawn towards the painted figure on the hillside. "You gave me this power in hopes of making your dreams come true. But dreams are such silly, insignificant things. They hold no meaning whatsoever. I hope you understand that, Gesthal. Because you're about to learn how useless they really are."

The island drifted across the sky, with nothing but the voice of the wind whispering in his ears. Kefka narrowed his eyes, blue meeting black as he glared at the Emperor. Perhaps the old man heard him. Maybe so, maybe not. No matter. He was sure the Emperor would just dismiss it as usual. And long about now it didn't matter what he thought of his delightful little jester, because it was all a joke. One hilarious joke for Gesthal's amusement. And yet he wasn't the one who was laughing, now was he?

"Palazzo." Gesthal spoke slowly, a nervous tremor present in his voice. He glanced at the ground, not wanting to take his eyes off the crazed magician for more than a second, but knew that he must watch his step or risk falling to his death in one of the many pits and chasms that had been carved into the hillside. "Now's not the time for one of your ridiculous speeches. We are so close to obtaining absolute power and control over everyone on earth. Don't you see that, Palazzo?"

"Idiot," Kefka muttered, his lip curling in a hideous sneer. He turned to face the statues, wincing as a sudden pain flared to life in his lower back. Daggers of burning, white hot energy set his nerves on fire as he looked upon their faces, their voices crying in unison, "Unholy spawn of bastard magic! You dishonor us with your presence. Go now, for mankind was not meant to dwell amongst the heavens as a god."

"No!" The word barely passed his lips before Kefka fell victim to a sudden coughing fit, blackened blood rising in his throat and flooding his lungs. "I am a god! I am one of you!" he choked out, gasping and falling to his knees before the Warring Triad.

Sharpened nails dug into his flesh, clutching his chest as his stomach heaved painfully, expelling a rancid mixture of blood and putrefied magic. This thickened substance spattered the ground with splashes of color that oozed and pulsed as though it were alive. But if this was the price he had to pay for becoming a god, then so be it. He didn't even care that this corrosive fluid had begun eating away at his back, blood seeping through his clothes as grotesque sores formed beneath the layers of fabric.

A familiar voice caught his attention, speaking to him through the haze of pain that clouded his thoughts, and for a moment he thought he must be wrong, or that he was hallucinating. Because why would she be here? Of all places and at a time like this. She couldn't. It was impossible.

"Terra?" He barely recognized his own voice, the sound harsh and grating. Slowly he turned, his muscles screaming in agony from even the slightest movement, until at last he spied his precious doll lingering on the edge of his peripheral vision.

She was there, standing in the center of a group which consisted of Locke, Edgar and Celes. And although he was certain he'd heard her speak, the poor girl was too horrified to utter more than a frightened whimper when he turned to look at her.

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the sound of Kefka's labored breathing. Emperor Gesthal came forward, his expression almost friendly, and spread his arms wide as though he were welcoming a group of friends.

"Celes, my dear child, so good to see you again." Grinning, Gesthal motioned towards the statues. "You're just in time to watch me conquer the world with the power of the Warring Triad!"

A flash of light surrounded Celes' body, frigid air pulsing, flowing outwards as her muscles tensed. "You have to stop this!" she cried, her anger causing the Emperor to chuckle in amusement. "Unleashing their power will only lead to war and ruin. Is that really what you want?"

Her answer came in the form of a shockwave, summoned when Gesthal siphoned the energy from the statues and channeled it through the earth. The ground shook monetarily, with Kefka still bent over double, watching everything from the sidelines as Celes was swept off her feet, her body hurled nearly a mile in the air before coming to rest at the foot of an embankment. A second flash followed the first as three dazzling points of light struck her friends, paralyzing each of them.

The mage lifted a trembling hand to his lips, wiping blood off his chin while staring at Terra's prone form. Confusion followed her terrified scream, watching as she struggled against her bonds. He then turned his attention towards Celes, who was clawing her way up the rocky hillside towards the Emperor, her limbs torn and bleeding from the jagged boulders that littered the surface of the continent. He knew them both, but his diseased mind was having difficulty sorting through what little remained of his memories.

"No," Kefka groaned, leaning forward until his forehead was touching the ground, his fingers tangling in his hair. "No, stop this. I-I can't... Cannot..." His sentence ended abruptly as images of the Warring Triad cut across his vision. Their power burned through him, ripping open his festering wounds and drawing a scream from within his bleeding throat.

Celes grunted, slipping backwards and almost losing her footing before managing to reach the top of the hill. Fearlessly, she stood before the Emperor, a whirlwind of snowflakes gathering at her feet as Shiva's magic stirred within her veins.

"Ah, Celes. Such a resilient young lady." Emperor Gesthal smiled at her, and held out his hand. "Why don't I give you and Kefka the task of creating progeny to populate my new Magitek empire?"

"Progeny?!" Kefka screeched, blood flying from his lips. "Of all the filthy, disgusting, vile things in this world... You want me to breed with her?" Another coughing fit left him breathless and gasping, his voice strained as a slew of inarticulate howls and curses managed to escape between frantic, heaving breaths.

"Hmm, perhaps Kefka has a point," Gesthal muttered, thoughtfully stroking his beard. "There's no place for you amongst my followers if you're going to betray my trust. First, you must prove your loyalty by killing your friends."

Both Terra and Kefka fell silent, with Celes standing between them, her head bowed, the flurry of snowflakes beginning to subside. The winds continued to race across the surface of the continent, each second that passed containing a year's worth of time, maybe more, the minutes dragging on before she lifted her head and nodded once to show that she was ready.

Kefka giggled, his voice low and grating. He reached for one of the splintered boulders on his left, scrabbling for purchase before finally managing to stand. "Kill them!" he rasped, another gleeful fit of laughter broken by ragged wheezes and pants. "Kill them all, and we'll forgive your treachery!"

When Celes finally lifted her head, looking from Kefka's painted face to those of her comrades, she made sure to keep her stoic mask in place. Her eyes, just as cold and lifeless as those that belonged to the cackling jester, settled on Terra, unsheathing her blade as she moved towards her.

"Celes," Terra whispered, her tears glistening in the yellow stormlight. "Please don't do this. You can't..."

The blond knight gripped the hilt of her sword, her runic blade flashing before cutting through the air, stopping short of slicing through Terra's windpipe. A hoarse sob pierced the silence as the cold steel bit into her neck, lifting her chin until she was forced to stare into the piercing eyes of her childhood friend. What she saw was something distant, the buried remains of who she was before her military training began. The empire had a habit of turning their commanding officers into machines, devoid of emotion and thought, and Terra knew that Celes could look at her without really seeing her, without noticing the tears that wet her cheeks.

"Power only breeds war," Celes murmured, her lips barely moving as she spoke. "It's something we'd all be better off without."

Terra's breathing hitched, her eyes closing after taking one last look at the skies above. Wind whipped across her face, howling as it surged through the crevices within the rocks, followed by the sound of a piercing scream that rose above the hollow winds. But the voice she heard was not her own, and she opened her eyes to see Celes standing with her sword buried deep in Kefka's torso.

Kefka gasped, his mouth falling open, staring at the spreading stain that soaked through the front of his shirt. His heart was racing dangerously, inhumanly fast, but not a single breath passed between his trembling lips. It wasn't until the sword was pulled from his torso that he began to scream, verbally assaulting the blond female, who by now had stumbled backwards across the rocky landscape, unable to comprehend what she was seeing.

The only person who seemed capable of dealing with the maniacal clown was Emperor Gesthal. He pushed past Celes, ignoring the others as he ran towards Kefka, who had reached the center of the Warring Triad and was attempting to move the statues out of alignment.

"Kefka, stop!" Gesthal shouted, his voice barely registering in Kefka's mind. The ground at his feet was spattered with blood, and when he looked up he saw Kefka leaning against the statue of the Goddess, one hand holding the gash in his side while he shoved the statue with his shoulder. "If you disturb their balance, you'll destroy the very world we want to rule! There's no value in that!"

Kefka's eyes were bulging from their sockets, bloodshot and rimmed in a thick, scarlet fluid that had nothing to do with the layers of makeup now melting and running down his face. He turned on Gesthal, blood trickling from his mouth and nose, oozing from his tear ducts, an angel crying bloody tears. "Shut up!" he shrieked. "This isn't your decision to make, old man. This is for the gods to decide and they have chosen me!"

He was grinning now, blood staining his lips and teeth. If it weren't for the excessive amounts of magic helping to dull the physical sensations of his body, Kefka would have been crippled by the intensity of the pain. Instead, he leapt up, laughing wildly, and threw himself at the Goddess statue.

The Emperor huffed out an irritated sigh, shaking his head as though he were dealing with nothing more than a misbehaving toddler. "You poor, hopeless thing," he said slowly, sounding as though he almost pitied the deranged magician. Gesthal raised his right hand, flames leaping from his fingertips, flashing in bursts of color and light. "Look at you. Your mind, as well as your body, wasting away to nothing. Though I truly regret having to end it this way, I suppose it's for best. You probably aren't going to last much longer with such grievous wounds anyway."

Amused by this statement, Kefka fell against the central statue, laughing as though he'd just been told the most hilarious joke in existence. What did it matter if he was bleeding from one wound or a dozen? His flesh was blistering down the length of his spine, burning from the inside out as shadows gathered at his feet. 'And this?' he thought, lifting his hand and seeing splotches of blood staining the makeup on his fingers. 'This is nothing. I am beyond such trivial matters.'

His eyes rolled upwards, seeing what appeared to be a second sun taking shape against the bruised and blackened clouds. The molten sphere was suspended in the air above Gesthal's head, a halo of light shining like a fairy ring around the blazing ball of fire. The glowing particles pulsed, creating a blinding flash, with flames rushing outwards and engulfing the statues.

A moment of silence followed before a series of explosions tore at an invisible barrier that materialized around the Warring Triad. Electricity crackled across the surface of the barrier, the air thrumming with a low, pulsating hum. Within seconds the the flames began to dissolve, flashing once before dying completely.

"What's this?" Gesthal exclaimed, his brow furrowing in confusion. He clapped his hands together, rubbing furiously, feeling warmth build within his fingers. "Ha! We'll just see about that," he snarled, gritting his teeth as angry sparks flashed along the base of the statues. A low, whooshing noise filled the air as a second ball of molten energy flared to life in the palm of his hand. Within seconds it had tripled in size, forming a white hot mass of searing heat. He hurled the flaming orb at the barrier, only to have it returned in the form of a sizzling lighting bolt which struck the ground at his feet.

Kefka was laughing even harder now, his vision blurring as a sudden wave of dizziness passed over him. "You can't pierce the shield," he said, snickering despite the growing pain in his side. "The statues absorb all magic sent their way. Or hadn't you noticed?" He staggered sideways, still clutching his bleeding abdomen, and placed the palm of his hand on the Goddess' statue. "Might of the ancients, hear me now and awaken. I command you to come forth and strike him down!"

Thunder sounded overhead, and Gesthal felt the passage of electrical currents close to the side of his head. A black fear stole over his heart and closed around his throat, preventing him from screaming as a pillar of light rose to pierce the clouds, illuminating the northern half of the continent with a brilliant glare. There was no escaping the arcs of electricity that bolted from the Goddess' statue, pummeling the continent as blazing streaks of light rained down from above.

A grisly scene met their eyes when the light began to fade, revealing the charred body of Emperor Gesthal. Most of his flesh had been melted by the intensity of the heat, exposing the bones underneath. The rest of him was unrecognizable, his hair and clothing turned to ash, drifting and rising on the warm winds that scoured the continent.

The final confirmation of the Emperor's death came at once when the enchantment which prevented them from moving was broken. Released from her bonds, Terra fell forward, her muscles going limp as feeling returned to her limbs. There was a sharp intake of breath as Locke caught her around the waist, her eyes widening at his touch.

Together they stood, watching as Celes and Edgar raised their swords and charged at the deranged jester. Though by now there was little they could do to stop the world from falling into ruin. Even now, as what remained of the fallen Emperor was being lifted on the wind, the floating continent was beginning to crumble.

Desperate to halt the destruction taking place, Celes drove her sword into the barrier, wincing as a shower of sparks erupted on either side of her. Edgar was not far behind when a sudden outpouring of magical energy knocked Celes off her feet, sealing the hole in the barrier while simultaneously launching her into the air. The earth roared with the wrath of the gods, building into a shattering crescendo of sound. And there stood Kefka, alone in the center of the Warring Triad, the edges of his vision darkening as he pushed the Goddess' statue further to the left.

His voice joined the howl of the heavens, shrieking and crying, rasping and desperate, gasping for air as the final statue was moved out of alignment with the others. The mage fell to the ground in a fit of convulsions, and his screaming - so deafeningly loud now - echoed through the crumbling hills and chasms. His clothing ripped down the length of his back, first catching on the corner of a jagged rock before the seams split entirely, revealing two pairs of shining wings that were nearly twelve feet in length.

He continued to thrash against the earth, spitting sounds like a dying animal, his voice bubbling out of the bloody spume that dribbled past his lips. His limbs, aching and twitching, flailed in the air as a gathering of shadows lifted his writhing form off the ground. These blackened tendrils swarmed beneath him, solidifying and piercing his flesh like daggers as the darkness within connected the shadows without, forming a third and final set of wings.

These demonic appendages, so unlike the four which spawned before them, were black and leathery. They unfurled as the last of the floating continent fell away, his body going limp, suspended in midair with blood cascading down his neck and chest. In that moment he was shown images of every living thing in existence, his consciousness merging with the planet as a whole. He felt the energy of the cosmos, the pull of the currents and the turn of the moon. The infinite and the mundane, sacred and profane, spirits of the dead and unborn spiraling before his eyes, until he no longer watched but existed in everything that was.

It was then that he saw it - a glimpse of something far away, shining like a star on the horizon. He tried to reach it, hoping to grasp the fragment of light, its warmth calling to him amid the vast expanse of space.

"Terra."

She was there, a child no more than five years old, laughing as she raised her hands towards the sky. A rainbow of colors spread across the heavens, flowers blossoming at her feet as she rolled over in the grass. A young man sat beside her, his face flush with natural color, blond hair spilling past his shoulders. Together they relived moments from their past, the colors coming together and splashing across the pages of his coloring books, the air filled with the sound of laughter, joyful and pure, as he lifted her up and spun her around.

Together they rose and together they fell, changing with the passage of time as his hand moved across the page, leaving behind a trail of words from a voice which hadn't spoken in years. He could hear it rising in his throat, unfamiliar, though it once had been his own, his eyes opening to see her in his arms, the wind whipping past as they plummeted towards the earth.

"Save yourself," he whispered, her face inches from his own. "Live while you can, for I am no longer responsible for the fate of this world."

In the arms of her angel she fell, hearing him speak as he once did long ago. He found her as the floating continent crumbled, holding on, only to release her when the moment had passed, leaving behind the starlight he'd seen on the horizon.


End file.
